


My True Love Gave to Me

by milky_mangoes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Love Confessions, Mild Language, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Romance, Self-Insert, Sexual Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, keeping this relatively PG-13, my attempt at writing something that isn't horny, these are all Christmas themed one-shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27950840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milky_mangoes/pseuds/milky_mangoes
Summary: The winter holidays are a magical time of the year, and there's no better way to spend them with the ones you love and hold dear.A collection of Christmas themed one-shots with various Haikyuu!! characters leading up to December 25th.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader, Tanaka Saeko/Reader, Tendou Satori/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 135





	1. Sugawara Koushi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Sugawara Koushi confessing his love underneath the mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written twelve different one-shots for twelve different characters that I'll be posting throughout the month of December until Christmas Day! For now, I hope you enjoy Sugawara's chapter ♡( ◡‿◡ )
> 
> Additionally, I'm using this mini-series as warmup for my other writing, so this isn't my best work—please check out a few of my other stories for the real goods!

[December 14th]

“What are you two doing?”

It’s nearly seven in the morning, and the knucklehead duo Nishinoya and Tanaka were already beginning their annual antics. The shorter of the two sits atop the other's shoulders, a thin branch of mistletoe pressed tightly between the wall and the libero’s hand. With a hammer in the other and nails dangling from his lips, he points towards Sugawara with a grunt.

“Hanging the misewtoe!” Noya says with excitement before taking a nail out of his mouth and positioning it against the top of the doorframe, hammer ready. “This year, we’re gonna get a kiss from our goddess underneath it, and you’re gonna stay far away from her, yeah!”

Suga snickers at the accusing tone, pride welling in his chest at last year’s achievement. He had been lucky enough to catch Kiyoko under the mistletoe (completely accidental, of course), and she offered to give him a kiss on the cheek as a per tradition. He nearly died inside at her touch, and ended up on Tanaka’s hit list for nearly half a year.

“Well, good luck with that, hmm?” He says idly, giving Tanaka an affectionate jab to the side as he brushes past them. The second year grunts, folding in on his stomach as he clutches Noya’s legs to keep him from tumbling six feet down.

“Hey, what the hell was that for!” He yells, and Noya accompanies him in shouting a few more unkindly phrases that fall deaf on the setter’s ears. As much as Suga would have liked to compete in their not-so-friendly mistletoe match for the pretty manager’s affection, he had someone else in mind that he’d rather get a kiss from.

Practice starts a few minutes later, the volleyball team swinging into action as they each take turns hitting serves and practicing new techniques for sets. Sugawara hangs off to the sidelines after a few reps, letting Kageyama take the lead in practicing with the rest of the team, and takes the opportunity to shoot you a quick text.

_sg: hey, are you gonna be here for practice?_

A second passes as he waits for your text, wondering where on earth you could’ve been. Kiyoko, unfortunately, couldn’t make it today due to a bad cold, something Daichi had told him and Asahi of the day before. And, like the kind hearted person you were, you volunteered to take her position as manager for a day to help ensure practice went by smoothly. Sure, it was a bit cruel to leave the other boys in the dark about their manager’s absence, seeing as how all their hard work would’ve gone to waste; but man would it be funny to see their disappointment at not being able to harass the poor girl for one practice session.

Besides, if he was lucky, their little shenanigans could pay off in a different way.

A few seconds later, his phone lights up with a text, and seeing your name accompanied by your cute contact photo ruffles the butterflies in his stomach.

_yn: sorry!! I’m almost there, I promise <3 just gotta grab a few things first_

He chuckles to himself. Late as always, he supposed; but that was one of the things he absolutely adored about you simply because that’s what made you, you. Plus, it felt nice being needed when you would always text and ask him to grab things you’ve forgotten, or to cover for you when you ran late to class. You never took advantage of his kindness either, always giving him a drink from the vending machine or a snack you made at home to thank him for his service. Your bright smile and heated cheeks as you handed him a wrapped bento box as an apology during your freshman year was what made him fall head over heels for you, after all.

Lost in thought, he misses the last ‘ding’ of his phone going off, and it's only a moment later when he hears the side door to the gym slide open that really knocks him out of his daydreams.

You lean up against the door, feebly attempting to balance three large boxes upon one another as you wobble inside. Suga instantly stands and rushes over to you, taking two cardboard boxes to help lighten your load with a grin.

“Ah, thanks Koushi,” you say, eyes squinting up at him with a sheepish smile. He desperately hides the tightening in his chest at hearing you call him by his first name. “Kiyoko wanted me to pick up the team’s new jerseys from inside the school first, but they ended up being heavier than expected.”

Suga clicks his tongue and shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes as he chides you. “You should’ve called, I could’ve ran over to help you, y’know.”

He sets his own boxes against the wall before grabbing yours, his hands slightly brushing across your chilled fingers as he frees you of your burden. You were freezing, if the modest shivering of your legs and frigid touch were any indication, and he has half a mind to tear off his jacket to wrap around you.

“Hmm, I know, but I knew how much playing volleyball with the team means to you, so I thought it’d be better if I just handled it myself.” You crack your knuckles as you watch him set down the third box before coming to stand beside you.

Against his better judgement, he slides his volleyball jacket off and throws it over your shoulders, pulling it around your body and gripping it by the collar.

“Here, you’re shaking.”

“Oh!” You gasp, and he can’t miss the reddening of your cheeks as you fumble to grasp the article of clothing, instead settling on holding his wrists. Whether your state was from the frost outside or a result of the intimate contact, he couldn’t tell. “Y-You don’t have to do that! I’m fine now that I’m inside.”

Now it was his turn to blush, the dainty grip of your hands on his causing goosebumps to prickle across his pale, exposed skin. “Don’t worry about it, I don’t need it. Besides, you’ll catch a cold if you run around outside in just a t-shirt and shorts.”

You scoff up at him, blush fading now that the atmosphere has returned to your usual facetious bantering. “It’s not that cold outside, you know—” you stick a leg out and gesture to your bare legs warmed only by a pair of knee-high socks and shorts that are mostly covered by an oversized t-shirt and his larger black jacket, “—especially when I’m so warm blooded!”

He ruffles your hair with a laugh. “Be sure to tell me that next week when I’m hand-feeding your sorry ass chicken noodle soup and crackers.”

You mutter something defensive, a cute pout adorning your flushed face. Even after all these years, he could never get over the way you made him feel when he saw you smile and laugh. But, as your relationship blossomed into close friendship, he became more determined to keep the perfect balance you both teetered around in check.

“Woah, look!” Hinata shouts from across the court, pointing in your direction. “Sugawara-senpai’s under the mistletoe!”

Immediately, a volleyball decks the ginger straight in the chest, thanks to a well-aimed spike from Karasuno’s ace.

You and Suga both wince at the impact as Asahi rushes over to apologize to the first-year, dragging the sudden attention away just as fast as you both attracted it. Coach Ukai yells at the two to stop fooling around, but Hinata starts rambling to Asahi about his spiking power before they can resume the game.

“So, mistletoe, huh?” Suga says, pointing a finger at the top of the doorway with an impish smile. “By law that means I get a kiss from the pretty person underneath it, you know.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious joke, and he doesn’t honestly expect you to follow through with it if you were uncomfortable in the slightest, only giving a short laugh as he pulls back.

To his surprise, you grab the side of his neck in one hand and drag his head down to your level, pressing a chaste kiss against his chin. He blinks down at you as you release him with a shrug, and his skin tingles from the touch of your soft, chapped lips.

“It’s law, isn’t it?” You murmur, still close enough to where he can feel your breath caressing his cheeks. “Does that mean I also get a kiss from the pretty boy underneath the mistletoe?”

God, he’s so in love with. And as he grips his jacket collar to pull you up into a full kiss, he hopes his lips melding against yours can convey just how much he adores you. Your arms encircle his shoulders, leaning into the kiss with a dopey grin.

“I like you, Koushi,” you confess against his lips, eyes fluttering open as you hear him snort. He giggles as he presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and lands on your lips.

“Wow, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that from you.” Your eyes widen a hint at his subtle admission, and he wiggles his nose against yours, his soft hair tickling your forehead. “I really like you too, more than you know.”

Unfortunately, the two of you don’t have time to bask in the warmth of either’s declaration of love, as a wolf-whistle drags you both out of your lovey-dovey gaze.

“Woohoo, looks like my homeboy finally got the balls to confess, did he?” Tanaka yells, his loud voice no doubt attracting the eyes of everyone on the team. You titter at the twitch in Sugawara’s brow as the second-year starts to holler, joined by Nishinoya’s hooting and appreciative thumbs-up.

“Yeah, looks like you won’t be kissing Kiyoko this year!” He shouts, giving a small high five to the spiker as they celebrate their friend’s new relationship (and more importantly, the elimination of worthy competition). Suga rolls his eyes.

Ukai grumbles something to Takeda before shouting for Sugawara to get his ass back on the court. “You can canoodle in the corner later, we need to practice our secondary lineup!” The coach blows the whistle and the team falls into place on the court as they mumble amongst themselves.

Sugawara lingers behind, his pinkie finger hooked on yours and unwilling to let go. You give his hand a small squeeze, urging him to get back to his team. “We can continue this later, right?” You ask, still a little breathless and red from embarrassment.

He beams as he leans to press a warm kiss against your heated cheeks.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Even if you don't celebrate Christmas, I still hope you can enjoy these fluffy winter-themed one-shots ( ´ ω ` )ノﾞ


	2. Yamaguchi Tadashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Yamaguchi Tadashi witnessing the first snowfall with his crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this boy so much, I went over my allotted chapter word count (⌒_⌒;) I still hope you can enjoy, I'll be posting every day until the 25th!

[December 15th]

“Ne, Yams, it’s too cold outside,” you whine.

You cuddle closer to the tall boy, shoving your hands into your coat pocket as the two of you amble down the side of the road. His longer legs easily outpace your small stride, causing you to hustle as you match his relaxed pace.

“Cold as balls,” you elaborate, with a disgruntled huff. He laughs at your pouty face, a cloud of frigid air leaving his lips. That earns him an elbow to the side. “I thought being out this early would let us see the sunrise.”

“The sun rose two hours ago,” Yamaguchi remarks. It’s well after seven in the morning, already a late start for getting to practice for the first-year. No thanks to you, of course; he was waiting outside of your house for half an hour before you decided to grace him with your groggy presence like you promised. Even though you obviously regret agreeing to help the boy practice his serves, you managed to follow through on your promise. “Maybe if you got up earlier we could’ve seen it.”

Another pitiful groan leaves your chapped lips, your chin burying itself in your scarf to escape the brutal wind. You mumble something else he doesn’t quite catch, and he’s partially thankful he’s spared from your grumpy morning attitude.

“Maybe if you didn’t insist on playing volleyball at the butt-crack of dawn,” you mutter, pulling your hood over your head and tightening the strings to squish around your face, “we could’ve been warmed by the sun’s rays right now.”

Yamaguchi looks up into the bleak gray sky. A blanket of clouds cover the area, blocking even the barest amount of sunlight from peaking through. It is truly a dreadful day to be out and about, the temperature keeping more sane people indoors on an early saturday morning, but that’s what made it the perfect opportunity to sneak into the gym for an extra practice match. The keys he borrowed from Yachi jingle in his pocket as he shoves his cold hands into its warmth.

“It’ll be warmer in the gym, don’t worry,” he says, shooting a grin at your bundled figure. The two of you round the corner of the school and he jogs ahead to unlock the sliding doors, ushering you inside. And he’s right, as soon as you walk in you feel a wave of warmth rush over you. “See?”

He rushes to set up the net as you shed your layers of clothing and toss them onto the sidelines. You run to the storage closet to grab a bin of volleyballs as he finishes up, and the two of you settle into an easy rhythm of tossing balls back and forth as you shake the cold from your bones.

Yamaguchi’s lucky to be spending his early hours practicing with one of Karasuno’s best female volleyball players, as you willingly advise him on his technique and compliment his jump float serves. His ears tinge red at your vocal admiration of his progress over the past few months after you fail to receive one of his hits.

Within the hour, your icy cold demeanour melts into hyper-focused enthusiasm. The heat of the gym combined with the strain and adrenaline of rushing around the court has your body warmed up in no time. Hell, even hearing you laugh at one of his piss-poor attempts to receive a particularly powerful serve of yours has his own body heating with a spark of joy.

The two of you go on like that, hitting and serving the volleyball until you’re both sweating and out of breath. Yamaguchi collapses against the wall next to you, graciously accepting the water bottle you toss his way. He gulps it down greedily, barely cognizant of your soft eyes watching him.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, turning to hand the bottle back to you. You take it from his hands, pausing as you lift the tip to your mouth.

“Hey, Yamaguchi?”

“Mhmm?” He hums idly, attention drawn to your dainty hands gripped around the bottle. You had such cute, small hands for a volleyball player, or at the very least compared to him.

“Why did you invite me to come play with you instead of Tsukki?” You ask, taking a small sip of water. “I mean, I’m sure he could’ve been more helpful than I, especially since you two play together.”

Your question stuns him into silence for a brief second. Why not ask Tsukishima? For starters, the blond didn’t particularly care for waking up to practice volleyball in freezing temperatures (much like yourself, but he excludes that little tidbit of information). And yes, he was Yamaguchi’s best friend, but that also didn’t stop him from being a judgemental prick when it came to giving feedback. Your criticism was nice, packaged into bite-size pieces that didn’t crush his already severely wounded ego; Tsukishima’s criticism was blunt but analytical, often coming across as rude even when he didn’t mean to be.

That, and Tsukki wasn’t nearly as cute as you were.

“Tsukki was busy this morning,” Yamaguchi says. It’s not a total lie, but not necessarily the truth either. He never actually checked in with the older boy about his plans for the day, seeing as how he gravitated towards you first when asking around. “Besides, you give better feedback. Trust me, your advice really helped me on my receiving.”

He sticks his arms out in a mock receive and pounds them upwards, making a popping sound with his mouth to imitate the impact of a volleyball. You grin, laughing at his little display. Once again, warmth floods his chest at your enjoyment, and a small voice in the back of his head tugs him to scoot closer to your small frame.

“Well, I’m glad you asked me to come play. I’ve had fun hanging out with you this morning,” you say, closing your eyes. He watches your face for a moment more, eyes tracing over your soft lips, cute nose, and messy hair. A stray curl frames your sweat-stained face, whispering for him to brush it back behind your ear. Maybe if he were more bold, he would; maybe then he could’ve confessed his love already, instead of dancing around his feelings for you like a shy schoolgirl.

A pleasant silence falls over the two as you both lean your heads against the wall, content to listen to the soft exchange of breaths in the otherwise quiet gym. He yawns into his fist.

“Yams,” you whisper, and he hums, mind hovering in a state of bliss as his body threatens to sweep him into a quick nap. Your body heat next to him is a comforting presence, soothing him into a state of serenity. “Tadashi, look!”

At the sound of his name, his eyes flutter open to meet your excited gaze. A pair of hands grip his elbow, tugging him upwards onto wobbly feet, and in his haze he blindly relents to being dragged to the sliding gym doors. You whip it open and rush out, hands slipping easily into his without a thought as you rush into the nearby courtyard.

He stares down at your dainty fingers curled around his. He’s never held your hands before, nor have you ever initiated such contact; red floods his face as he feels his neck and ears burning, a sharp contrast to the bitter cold that nips at his cheeks. Yamaguchi doesn’t even have time to process the fact that you called him by his name before he’s bumping into your halted body.

“Look,” you repeat, pointing to the sky. His gaze trails along the length of your arm and past your fingertips. Sure enough, small white flecks of snow were falling from the sky, collecting on the earth and structures around you both. You mutter a small, breathy ‘wow,’ your eyes glazed over as you stare at the snowfall. “It’s snowing.”

“Oh yeah, it’s the first snowfall of the season,” Yamaguchi says, nodding his head. With your gaze still trained upwards, your arms snake around one of his to lock at the elbow, pressing your chest into his arm. He marvels at your awestruck face, cheeks tinted red at the proximity. Snickering, he says, “don’t tell me you’ve never seen snow before.”

“No, no, I have,” you defend, turning your chin up to look at him with a pout. “I just think the first snow is really special, y’know? Especially when you get to experience it with someone else.”

Yamaguchi gapes down at you, his eyes getting lost in your wide, soft irises as you grin up at him. He watches as a few stray snowflakes swirl through the air, one landing in your hair and the another on the tip of your nose. He raises his thumb to brush the little speck off your nose whilst pushing it up at the same time to give you a pig snout, earning a high-pitched grunt from you. He snickers.

“Snow ‘s starting to pick up, should probably head inside unless you wanna turn into an ice hog out here,” he teases, laughing at your noise of indignation. But, he doesn’t pull his hand away from your face, your own simply sliding his large palm to hold your warm cheeks as you sulk.

“You hang out with Tsukki too much, he’s turned you into such a meanie.” You nuzzle your head into the palm of his hand, lips lingering in a mock kiss against his wrist before looking back up at him. That seemed to get the appropriate reaction out of him, his eyes blown wide as he stares down at you, framed by a flurry of white, and you decide to take your teasing one step further by leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his freckled nose.

“You good, Rudolph?” You ask, beaming up at his stupidly cute dumbstruck expression. “Can’t handle a little bit of reindeer games—”

He smashes your face into his broad chest, abruptly cutting off whatever jab you had as he curls over your tiny body, and you swear you could hear his heart pounding through his ribcage. Instinctively, you scrape your fingernails against his scalp gently, worried you might have upset your best friend in some way. “Tadashi?”

You don’t have time to question him further before he’s pressing your lips into his, hurried and tight, his eyes squeezed shut. He nearly misses your mouth entirely, but in your stunned surprise you couldn’t care less. He—attempts—to pull away, overcome with his own emotions and ashamed of his sudden boldness as he thinks up a quick apology for his forwardness—but your smooth arms pull his neck back down for a proper smooch, one that has him absolutely melting in your touch.

You give him one last little peck before inching away a hair, just enough to see his blown out expression and puffy lips, and from this distance you could probably count every single freckle on his cheeks.

“Holy—do you, are we—” he stutters out, and you lean into his embrace for another well-timed kiss just to shut up his cute little blabbering. His hands finally stop shaking against your waist, and he drops his forehead to shoulder with a pleasant sigh. You pet his hair as he mumbles into your neck, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. I really, really like you.”

You hum, a silly grin plastering itself across your lips and stretching into your cheeks. “I really, really like you to Tadashi.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling his head back only to avoid eye contact once more, “but, ah, what does this mean for us now?” He can’t imagine returning back to normal after he spilled his heart to you and embraced you with an intimate touch, but there was still a seed of doubt in the back of his mind that made him question your intentions.

You can tell he’s falling back into his nerves, and you rake your hands through his dark olive hair to provide him some sense of comfort as you think quietly to yourself. With a slight smirk, your twist in his grasp to lean your back against his chest and look up at him with twinkling eyes.

“I think this means I’m your new girlfriend, you dork,” you say with a shrug. “Only if you want that, of course.”

Yamaguchi feels a warmth tingle in his veins at your direct answer, nestling his nose into its rightful place in the crook of your neck, his strong arms wrapping around your midsection. His face is still warm from the nipping cold and the embarrassment of confessing his feelings, but he can’t stop the goofy smile threatening to overtake him. “Only if I get to be your new boyfriend, beautiful.”

You flush at the nickname, knowing he meant it genuinely. He rests his chin on the top of your head as you both watch the fluttering snow fall in larger batches, a thick pile already gathering at your feet in such a short period of time. The weather was only going to get worse from here, as a few inches were expected to collect by the end of the day, but he really didn’t feel like pulling away from your warm embrace to account for the climate.

“You’re not cold?” He asks, suddenly aware that the two of you were still in your gym clothes, the chill seeping into his bones as he clung to your tiny heat. He can hear the smile in your voice as you shake your head lightly, a few flurries falling from your hair as you do so.

“Nah, not when I’ve got you right here.”


	3. Kuroo Tetsurou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Kuroo Tetsurou buying matching ugly Christmas sweaters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than the Yamaguchi chapter because I physically have no self-control when writing and can't set a word ceiling without going over it.

[December 16th]

You two were going to be so late.

It wasn’t the best look for both Nekoma’s team captain and manager to show up to the annual ‘Happy Holidays’ party late together, but it was somewhat of a fashionable choice on your part. Mainly because the two of you put off looking for ugly Christmas sweaters until the very last minute, and were now stuck with arguably the most hideous articles of clothing you could find left on the racks. You win some, you lose some, you suppose.

“Tetsu, there’s no way I’m wearing this,” you mutter, staring down at the bright red and green sweater clutched tightly between your hands. It would be a relatively decent top, with warm layers and soft thread, but the large white letter saying ‘HUBBY’ really withdrew from the cuteness. It was comedic at the time when you both found it in the store (not that there was much of a selection in the first place), the irony too sweet to ignore, but now you just wish you bought something off the internet instead. “This has got to be one of the ugliest pieces of clothing I’ve ever touched in my life.”

“Hey, trust me, I know,” Kuroo agrees, rustling around the plastic shopping bag to pull out an identical sweater with the same word on it. “I would have much preferred one of those two-person pullovers.” He jabs you in the side lightly with a sly grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, well I’d rather not be attached at the hip with you all night—” you turn your back to your boyfriend as you step into the attached bathroom, leaving him alone on your bed. Might as well get this over with; you had a whole night of drinking and partying in this stupid thing ahead of you, might as well not delay the inevitable. “Matching with you is already embarrassing enough!”

“Your words cut deep!” He calls as you shut the door. You can still hear his muffled laughter on the other side as you slip off your top and throw on the offensive sweater. It looks even worse as you turn in the mirror, the size far too large and the colors clashing horrendously. The only upside is that it feels soft against your skin, not scratchy and stiff like last year’s bout of outerwear.

Shaking your head, you head back out to meet your captain, seeing him in his matching attire. His eyes rake over your form from head to toe before he stands and slaps his chest, swiveling on his heels to give you the full turnaround of his outfit. He grins lazily, throwing his hands out as if he’s on display. “So, how does it look?”

Why there were only ‘HUBBY’ sweaters and no ‘WIFEY’ sweaters left in stock, you weren’t sure, but seeing him in that stupid getup almost made it worth it. You slap a hand over your mouth to miserably hide your disgusted laughter at his proud appearance.

“Damn, and I thought it looked ugly on me,” you jest, moving to stand in front of his now seated position on the bed so you could drape your arms over his shoulders. “I don’t want you getting any funny ideas now that you’ve got the husband sweater on. You haven’t earned that title yet.”

He grabs your waist and pulls you into a tight hug, his chin resting on your chest as he gazes up at you. “Aww, you don’t wanna be my hubby this year?” He snakes his hands underneath the horrendous red wool and trails his fingers innocently along your skin. He can’t help but tease you, his words sweet and silky as he continues. “People might get the wrong idea if we both show up in this. Might as well wear matching rings to go along with it, hmm?”

“Hmm, I’ll think about that offer later,” you remark, lazily dragging your fingers through his messy bedhead. The two of you had only been dating for a few months now, but after many years of friendship, you couldn’t imagine a life without him. Still, it was entirely too early to even be joking about the idea of marriage; it wasn’t good for your fluttering heart or the heat of your cheeks. “Try again next winter, would you?”

He practically purrs at your gentle touch, appreciative of your small hands digging into his hair. “You know, we could’ve gotten matching sweaters where one spelled out kitten,” he traces his finger over the white letters on your sweater, then on his as he follows up, “and the other spelled out daddy—”

“Don’t,” you shove his face, his lips forming a wicked smile against the palm of your hand, much to your dismay. He doesn’t relent his grip on your hips tugging you down with him as he falls against the bed. “Don’t be gross. I’m trying to keep this party PG-13, you know.”

You huff at him, balancing on your elbows above him as he hums to himself, clearly pleased at the change of positions. He pecks a small kiss to the tip of your nose to lessen the downright sour look on your face, and it works as you melt into his embrace, tossing your head down onto his chest.

God, he could stay like this forever, holding you tight in his warm embrace. He has half a mind just to turn over and take a nap, but he knows his responsibility as captain of the team takes priority tonight, and you would slap him upside the head if he prevented Nekoma’s lovely manager from fulfilling their duties.

“We’re drinking spiked eggnog and playing Dirty Santa, not gonna be anything PG about it,” he says. You sit up onto his lap, and he follows your movements with hazel eyes as he languidly squeezes your thighs. “You know, I’ve bought the cutest lace thong wrapped in one of the presents tonight, with a little bow and everything.”

“Wow, now I know which gift to avoid,” you retort, shuffling off the middle blocker’s lap so you could finish getting ready. You glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand, grimacing at the red digital letters chiding your lateness. You still had a twenty minute walk to Nobuyuki’s house, and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. “Maybe if you’re lucky, Lev’ll end up taking that home. I’m sure the lot of you would get a real hoot out of that.”

He says something that you don’t catch as you bounce between the two rooms, quickly combing your fingers through your hair as you move to your scrub your teeth and tongue with a spare toothbrush you left in Kuroo’s bathroom.

Tetsurou splays himself across the bed as he waits for you to finish up, hands resting behind his head as he listens to your footsteps pad across his wood floors. He had already texted the team that you both would be running a bit late, but that didn’t stop you from rushing around like the whole house was set on fire. A heavy piece of fabric slapping down onto his face forces a grunt from him, and he lifts it to peak up at you sliding on your own jacket.

“C’mon you nerd, it’s time to get going. We’re already late,” you say struggling to slip on your boots, and he smiles. He throws on the jacket you tossed for him as you lead him out of the house, hand easily slipping into yours perfectly.

The two of you fall into an easygoing conversation on the walk to the vice captain’s house, talking about final exams, plans for the winter break, all eventually leading back to volleyball and nationals in the coming spring. It was almost a somber subject, as that would be the last time the team, particularly the third-years, would be gathered together before going their separate ways. You and Kuroo never discussed how your relationship would proceed after graduating high school, but you both silently agreed to cross that bridge after nationals. He grips your hand a little tighter as you both fall quiet, determined to enjoy the nice moments with the team while you still could.

He presses a kiss to your temple as you knock on Nobuyuki’s door, and you’re greeted with the polite smile of the vice captain.

“Hey, Kai!” You say, moving to give him a curt bow that he brushes off as he ushers you both inside. “Sorry about our delay, I guess I just lost track of time.”

Nobuyuki must have missed the memo about this being an ugly Christmas sweater party, because you’re seriously envying his tasteful poinsettia knit sweater. He shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it, we wouldn’t get started without our beloved manager.”

He takes the gifts you and Kuroo hand him and sets them underneath an already packed-full tree, colorful gift-wrapped presents already waiting for the last guests to arrive. You turn to Kuroo to make a snide remark about how his thong won’t live up against the sizable gifts already there, but he’s vanished from sight. You spot him across the room leaning over Kenma’s shoulders, the latter of the two furiously swiping his fingers across the screen of his phone. With a smile, you leave him to spend time with his best friend, choosing to go bother Yaku and Lev (who were both engaged in a heated debate about something undoubtedly stupid) about their winter break plans.

Half an hour later, the team is called to sit around the fireplace to play a round of Dirty Santa, and you all draw a number out of hat to decide the order. Kuroo settles onto the couch next to your right, and you peak at his number: one. You jab him in the side and hold out your piece of paper to him, having an eleven on it.

“Trade with me, Tetsu,” you hiss, and he playfully pushes your hand away. You pout as he gives you a half-smile, wiggling his own number in faux-mockery. “C’mon, everything good is gonna be frozen when I play, I’m practically the last number!”

“No way, number one’s the best!” He says. He squeezes your hand as a comfort, promising he would get you something nice after the party if you ended up with a terrible gag gift. It raises your spirits a bit, enough to stop pouting as you wait for everyone to finish drawing their numbers.

Kenma sits down against the couch arm to your left, and you send him a warm smile. He just barely returns it, still focused on his phone as he plays a game. Still, he dignifies you with a hushed comment, “If we were having a competition for ugliest sweater, you and Kuro would easily win.”

You blanch at his blunt tone, speechless. Such a shame, you had almost forgotten about the abhorrent clothes you wore tonight with your boyfriend, and you briefly wondered if everyone in the room found it either somewhat amusing or grossly distasteful. You can’t even think up a nasty comeback for the setter, his own sweater a simple blue and white decorated with iconic pixelated video game characters. It was subtle and muted, not standing out amongst the crowd of bright red and greens that the rest of you wore.

He side-eyes you as you mope and throw your head into your hands. “It seems like everyone else wore cute sweaters, I can’t help that Tetsu and I have the butt ugliest of the batch compared to the rest.”

Kenma hums. “Not necessarily, I would say Lev has the second ugliest. And not by a huge margin.”

The analytical setter was a hard nut to crack sometimes, and after managing the team for nearly three years you still found yourself wondering whether the two of you would be considered friends or not. Thankfully, you don’t miss the light tone and small smirk that tugs at the side of his lips, and you silently beam as your heart practically swells three sizes.

The game starts, and Kuroo stands first to grab a random present from the pile, snatching the small box you (much to your surprise) carefully wrapped. He settles in next to you and tears into it, pulling out a small cat-themed coffee mug, complete with a pair of ears at the lid and feet at the bottom, with a tail handle. He raises it so everyone can see, as if it’s the most amazing gift amongst the other far more expensive ones waiting to be picked, a huge grin plastered on his face.

As Yamamoto stands next to peruse the rest, you lean over to whisper to Kuroo, “Y’know that one was my gift, right?”

He simply gives you a closed-eye smile as he lifts his mug proudly. “Oh I know, I saw you eyeing it a few weeks ago when you thought you were being sneaky, so I figured that’s what you would buy.” He turns it in his grasp, sliding his hand into yours to give it a small squeeze. “It’s cute, and it’s mine now.”

Oddly, your cheeks heat at his admiration of your cheap gift. Obviously you thought it was cute when you first saw it, and may or may not have been thinking about grabbing and keeping it for yourself during the game since it would likely be one of the more undesirable presents. Knowing he likes kitty cat mug twirls butterflies in your stomach.

The sound of Yamamoto tearing through his chosen gift brings you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see him holding up Kuroo’s gift. You freeze, watching him lift the lid of the box—and oh god, he’s gonna get the thong—

“Headphones!” He shouts, lifting it high above his head. A few of the other boys also start chatting loudly about the gift (probably plotting on stealing it, these boys tended to be merciless in Dirty Santa), and you swear you see Kenma perk up slightly.

“I thought you said you brought a thong for the pile,” you mutter to your boyfriend as the noise conceals your conversation, and he laughs when you turn to him in confusion. He wraps a long arm around your shoulders and tugs you close to his chest.

“Did I say that?” He taps his chin in mock thought, but you know by his sly tone and narrowed eyes that he’s well aware of his intentional faux pas.

“I must have mixed up the gifts. Guess you know what you’ll be getting for Christmas in a few days then, hmm?”

You nearly throttle the nerd then and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading day 3 of this little mini series! That's a quarter of the way through! (ノ*°▽°*)


	4. Tendou Satori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Tendou Satori baking cookies early in the morning.

[December 17th]

You couldn’t think of a better way to spend the holiday season than with your boyfriend of two-and-a-half years, Tendou.

Since your parents were going to be out of town for the next few weeks visiting relatives, you offered to stay home and take care of the pets so they wouldn’t get lonely. Of course, you also needed companionship of the human variety, and called up your Satori to pack his bags and head on over (not that your parents needed to know a man would be staying alone in the house with you all break) for an extended sleepover.

He greets you at the door late into the night, a pack of soda in hand and his backpack in the other, and you quickly pull him into a hug. He immediately drops everything he’s holding just to scoop you up into his arms, wiggling his nose against yours with the sweetest smile.

“Thanks for coming over, Satori,” you say, kissing the tip of his nose as he carries you over to the couch and tosses you down, following your movements to curl his own body around yours. “This place can get kinda scary at night, when it’s dark and quiet.”

“Aww, no worries! I’ll be here to protect my baby cakes from any monsters in the dark,” he nuzzles into your neck as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He’s already made himself comfortable in your embrace, and as much as you love his heavy warmth on top of you, he still had his shoes on.

“Take off your shoes first, would you?” You ask, poking him in the cheek. He hums, using his toes to slide the heels off and lets them fall to the floor, earning a resigned sigh from your chest. So close to your torso, he could feel every heartbeat, ever sigh and inhale of breath. “You wanna watch a movie or two?”

You flip through the cable to find something decent to put on, landing on a channel playing old Christmas movies and TV show holiday special reruns, and put that on as ambiance. You and Tendou never actually paid that much attention when watching movies, as he would always make a weird remark about something going on in the show or mention something offhanded about his day, which would lead you both into a conversation completely unrelated and—whoops, you missed half the movie.

Tendou did most of the talking. You loved hearing the sound of his voice, his humorous little anecdotes and stories. Volleyball and his friends always seemed to weasel its way into his dialogue, but the passion in his voice as he talked about how well practice went or what unintentionally funny thing Ushijima said always brought a smile to your face. Hell, he would blabber about his shounen magazines you’ve never read just to have someone who could hear him, and you would mumble small affirmatives that, yes, you were still listening.

Before you know it, the first movie ends, replaced by some holiday musical from the 90s. It’s well past time for bed, your body succumbing to the darkness and tired ache that weighs down on your muscles from the long day, but Tendou’s just so warm and comforting on top of you that you doubt you could pry him off even if you wanted to. You sneak a peek down at the middle blocker to see if he was still paying attention to the movie or if he had actually drifted off himself, as his daily rambling had gone silent.

Half-lidded eyes peer up at you from the dark, his chin resting on your stomach. The dim light of the television lights up the side of his face as you drag a hand through his soft hair, pleasantly content to just lay on the couch until daylight breaks. You let your eyes slide shut as sleep threatens to overtake you, the quiet hum of the movie acting as white noise for your oncoming slumber—

A growl tears through the night air, and your eyes go wide, slowly peering down at Tendou. His red eyes are still trained on you, but there’s a wicked grin adorning his cute face as he nuzzles into your tummy.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” he teases, and you have half a mind to kick him off of you in embarrassment at the loud grumble that emerges from your stomach. Of course you were a little snackish, seeing as how you never ate dinner and it’s nearly—you check the alarm clock below the TV—two in the morning. “You wanna make something to eat, ducky?”

You hope it’s dark enough for him to miss the faint blush across your cheeks at his ridiculous pet names, and give him a shy nod. His face splits into a grin as he leaps up, dragging you to your feet and lifting you into his arms before you can find your balance, and traverses over to the kitchen. He sets you up on the counter, giving you a small parting kiss before he bounces around the room, opening cabinets and sorting through them.

“What are you hungry for?” He asks, yanking open the refrigerator door and sifting through whatever assortment of goods you had on hand, finally ending on a can of whip cream. His eyes practically lights up as he grabs it, pausing briefly as he spots an unopened package of cookie dough. He shakes the two items at you. “In the mood for something sweet?”

You quirk an eyebrow at his choice; it’s not a real meal, but you two were on vacation! A little late night sweets wouldn’t hurt, especially since the Christmas-tree shaped sugar cookies were thematic. Without waiting for your response, he tears open the package and pulls out a treat, holding it up to your lips.

“Open up, yeah?” And you do, opening your mouth enough for him to slide the whole cookie onto your tongue, and he pushes your chin up to close your mouth. He swipes his thumb over your lips as you chew appreciatively, humming at the sweet taste. “I bet we could make a giant cookie if we mushed them all together! And we could decorate it too—”

He claps his hands together like he’s just thought of the biggest breakthrough of the century. You humor him with a small giggle and a shake of your head. “You know I have a gingerbread house we could decorate too? I was planning on whipping it out later in the week, but…”

He shakes his head. “Nah, no, I wanna make you something you’re gonna eat tonight!” He grabs your shoulders and stares into your eyes, firm and strangely serious for such a lighthearted topic of store-bought Christmas delicacies. “We can make our dream gingerbread home and family another night—” he nips at your nose with his teeth, startling you, “—it’d be a shame for a titan to swoop down and devour them as soon as they're born.”

You roll your eyes and push him off you, a goofy grin adorning your lips at his teasing. He doesn’t mind, relenting easily, and lets you hop off the counter to grab a baking sheet and tray for the two of you to cook on. Tendou easily catches the rolling pin you toss to him, smoothing out the cookies and laying them on top of one another to form one giant tree-shaped cookie. You squeak when he playfully whaps the rolling pin against your ass you walk by him, earning a scolding look that he simply snickers at.

A jazzy song plays from the TV as you slide the completed cookie tray into the oven and set a timer, the lyrics probably having a ridiculously corny storyline about Santa Claus you didn’t particularly care for. You nearly jump as you feel a pair of hands wiggle their way around your waist, pulling your back against Tendou’s firm chest.

“Dance with me, puppy,” he laughs, long fingers trailing down your bare arms to hold your hands in his. He twirls you around so that your chests are pressing against one another, and he beams down at you with a devilish smirk. Your tired body easily relents to his firm hold, and he half-leads, half-drags you across the cold tile floor, your feet scraping as he tosses you into a dizzying twirl. His dancing is far too animated to match the original tempo or vibe of the song, his laughter filling the air in a way that makes your heart pound.

“Satori~” You whine as he brings you down into a dip, your head nearly hitting the floor as you hold onto his lanky arms for dear life. Head spinning, you feel him bring you back up, your toes landing on the tops of his feet, and you rest your head against his tall shoulder. Despite the broad smile painting your face, your exhaustion makes the pace he’s set a little difficult to keep up with. “Go slower for me, okay baby?”

Just for you, he slows his rhythm down to match the song. He leads you into a makeshift waltz, holding your body close to his. He hums softly, nuzzling into your hair. God, he could hold you like this forever: listening to your soft breathing, hands wandering across your tender flesh, wrapped in your loving embrace. Tendou rocks you side-to-side as the song fades, the lovely tune replaced with the sounds of more cheesy movie dialogue. For a moment, he thinks you’ve drifted off to sleep, your cheek squished against his chest and eyes closed out of pure happiness, but a prod to your forehead stirs you from whatever dream whisked you away.

“Cookies are done,” Tendou says, hugging you tight. Sure enough, the alarm goes off not a second later, and you twist your head to see the oven.

“I’ll get it—” you try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he only tightens his hold on you. With an exasperated sigh, you waddle both of your legs backwards towards the oven, pleading with him to let go just long enough to slide on a pair of oven mitts and grab the warm tray. “Watch out, it’s hot!”

You toss it onto the counters and fan it with your mitts. The jumbo cookie is a beautiful golden brown with a heavenly vanilla smell, still puffy and cooling off, but that doesn’t stop Tendou from uncapping the can of Reddi-Whip and squirting a little star at the top of the tree.

“It’s gotta cool off first!” You complain, batting the can away from your dessert. “It’ll melt and be gross if you spray it now.”

Tendou pouts before tapping your lips. “Hey, open your mouth again, hmm?”

You acquiesce, putting way too much faith in your mischievous boyfriend, and meeting the consequences of a glob of whipped cream overflowing your mouth. A high-pitched grunt leaves you as you feel the cold cream drip down your chin, slapping your lips shut and desperately trying to catch it before it falls onto your shirt. Tendou just laughs behind you.

“You look so cute with your cheeks all puffed and your mouth full!” He exclaims with a giggle, only worsening your furious flush. He grabs your face and squeezes, threatening to empty your stuffed cheeks.

“Cut ‘at wout,” you mumble, attempting to swallow before he can cause you any more embarrassment, and snatch the can from his deft fingers. He watches as you shake and spray it onto the tip of his nose, a pitiful attempt at payback for his crimes. You only sour worse at his wide grin, unfazed; you decide to grasp the sides of his head and pull him down, licking a stripe across his tongue to (somewhat) clean him of his cream.

Tendou freezes, his eyes wide and owlish as you beam proudly at him. You think you’ve finally got him, triumphant as you cross your arms over your chest. You open your mouth to ask him how he liked that, but the whizzing of the can brings you out of your euphoria as you spot him—too late—pouring a heap of cream into the palm of his hand.

You hardly process the whap! of his hand slamming into your face, cream softening the harsh blow, coating all of your features and dripping down onto your t-shirt. All you can hear is his howl of laughter as he slips his hand off your face. It’s so cold and so wet and you don’t know which is worse. You swipe the cream away from your eyes just to be able to blink them open. He’s saying something to you, something you don’t catch, and you look down at his white hand.

“Look at you—you look like a little cream treat!” He laps at your nose with his tongue, copying your earlier motion. It does little to clean your face, even as he moves to lick at your cheeks and chin. “My creamy little Christmas cookie—”

His own palm slaps into his face, your tiny fingers gripped around his wrist of the hand that had devastated you. A heavy silence hangs over the air as he pulls his hand back, white now covering every inch of his own face. A heartbeat later, he’s giggling and pressing his lips onto yours in a sticky kiss.

“Oh my god,” you whine as he pulls back. “We’re making such a mess—” you pull your t-shirt out in front of you to emphasize the trouble you’ve both caused, “—I need to go change. I need to get a bath.”

“Pfft, let’s get a bath together then, since we’re all sticky together.”

He bites your cheek, earning a startled, “Satori!” to which he just pulls away and laughs at your reddening face covered in whipped cream.

“I think you look cute like this,” he rubs the tip of his nose against yours as a mock apology. You doubt you could stay mad at him if you tried, not when his face is painted an identical shade of sticky white that causes your tummy to grumble with forgotten hunger.

It looks like you have a lot to look forward to in the next few weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was harder to write than the previous chapters, but I still hoped you enjoyed it (×﹏×)  
> Tendou is an interesting character that I'm not sure how to write yet...


	5. Nishinoya Yuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Nishinoya Yuu exchanging ‘heartfelt’ gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I say this every author's note but this is the longest chapter thus far—I'm strangely proud of it haha

[December 18th]

“Keep your eyes closed! No peeking!”

Nishinoya’s rambunctious voice echoes throughout the small house, his hurried footsteps heard bouncing between the upstairs bedroom and bathroom. You chuckle at his seemingly endless enthusiasm, focusing instead on stoking the warm embers of the hearth. The bulk of the fire had gone out a few hours ago, and you have nothing better to do than poke the charred log in hopes of it reigniting as you wait for your boyfriend to finish… whatever he was doing.

Tonight, you were supposed to be exchanging your Christmas gifts for one another (despite you insisting that he really didn’t need to get you anything, but he seemed ecstatic at the thought of giving you something), since the two of you wouldn’t be able to see each other until after the holidays.

“Noya! What’s taking so long?” You call, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. As interesting as jabbing a charred log with a stick is, you’d much rather be spending time with your boyfriend right about now.

A few seconds later, you hear his bounding footsteps, and the libero appears around the corner with a poorly packaged present covered in bright green bow.

“Haha! I’ve got it right here!”

He slides right beside you, proudly presenting the box to you with a wide grin, and you take it with a delicate touch. It’s light, but large, and you wonder what the hell kind of gift he’s gotten for you. It was always a surprise with him.

“Why did I need to keep my eyes closed again?” You ask. Not that you ever closed them in the first place (you had forgotten the courtesy to even close them as he came down the stairs, but that didn’t matter now), but you were still curious as to what difference it could’ve made.

“In case I couldn’t find any wrapping paper upstairs! I might’ve forgotten to wrap it earlier, but it’s all ready now, heh.”

“Aww, even put a bow on it and everything!” He really put in the effort this year, which is something you appreciated greatly. It makes you warm inside when he goes out of the way to show his care, in his own special way. Looking back under the tree, you grab your own gift and hand it to him. It’s wrapped far nicer than his, considering you had the time prior, and he takes it with wide eyes. “Here you go, that’s what I got for you. It’s not that pricey or serious, but uh, I hope you’ll find the humor of it…?”

“If it’s from you, babe, I’m sure it’ll be great! Besides, I’m more excited to see how you like yours. I think it’s gonna look great on you!” He teases, and you laugh at his odd foreshadowing.

“You’re making me nervous,” you mutter.

“Don’t worry, you’ll love it!”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You hold the present in your lap, and he does the same with him. His fingers twitch in anticipation, hovering over the gift as his eyes meet yours for confirmation.

“On three?” He asks, and you nod.

“One…”

“Two…“

“Three—”

He tears through the wrapping paper before you can even touch the bow, compelling you to halt your actions just to watch his excitement. It’s so endearing, how much enthusiasm he has, and you only feel a small pit of dread at the bottom of your stomach that he’s going to be disappointed at your gag gift as he tosses off the lid—

“Ho ho holy shit!” He raises a pair of bright red and green boxers in front of his face, and you bite your lips as he stares at the main feature of the underwear: a long sock-like tube right on the crotch area, decorated with red and white stripes. “You got me candy cane dick undies!”

“I-It was more of Tanaka’s idea! I just picked it out and paid for it—” You wave him off, prepared to justify your less than honorable purchase, but he continues on as if he didn’t even hear you.

“I love it babe,” he says, his face nearly split in half by the wide grin he’s sporting. “I’m fact, I’m gonna go try it one right now!” He stands to his feet, readying to rush off when he notices the still wrapped gift clutched between your hands. He kneels back down, rubbing the back of his neck as he gestures to the forgotten gift.

“Wait, wait, finish unwrapping yours first. It’s kinda funny, this is such a coincidence!” He laughs, and you do as he says. His words don’t necessarily click until your slide off the lid of the box, and see the delicate red lace resting on fluffy white stuffing.

“Oh my god,” you breath, eyes boring out of your head as you pick up the dainty babydoll slip, complete with a tiny pair of panties. Your brain short circuits. “Is this lingerie…?”

“You betcha! Tanaka was the one who actually recommended I get that for you, and then I couldn’t get the thought out of you wearing it out of my head…”

“It feels like someone was working behind the scenes to produce this,” you mumble. Tanaka would be getting a strongly worded text message within the next few days if you didn’t walk over to his house to throttle him yourself. What a mastermind, orchestrating probably the most embarrassing outcome for your gift exchange to Nishinoya.

“I’m gonna go try these on now! You do the same, I wanna see you in that sexy two-piece!” Noya calls, not waiting for a response as he bounds off to the upstairs bathroom. You’re not sure where he wanted you to change if he’s taking up the bathroom, and you settle down next to the fire with a sigh.

There was no way you were wearing that. Right?

Well… maybe you could try it on. The slip did feel surprisingly soft, and the bustier and panties both had about as modest coverage as a lingerie set could have.  
Besides, you did want to thank Noya for such a nice set of underwear, I mean, how much did he spend on this thing? It brings a smile to your face, imagining the short libero waltzing around Victoria’s Secret or some other nice store, checking for your size in various colors and designs. Maybe Tanaka helped him pick it out.

Actually, you don’t want to think about that. Imagining your boyfriend’s best friend helping to handpick your intimates wasn’t a thought you necessarily wanted to dwell upon.

Luckily, you don’t have to, as a voice brings you out of your dreadful daydreaming.

“Ne, are you a present? Because I really wanna bang you underneath that tree.”

Nishinoya poses proudly at the threshold of the living room, his hand propped up on his hip as his other stretches out the lean against the doorframe. Your eyes travel down his exposed chest, always happy to appreciate his lean, well-earned muscles, before landing on the pièce de résistance. The candy cane sock is considerably more filled out now, and you force yourself to look away before you’re caught staring.

“That’s not even how the pick-up line even goes, you idiot,” you criticize, focusing elsewhere. “It’s—you know what—nevermind, I’m not even gonna humor that by finishing the line for you.”

“Aww babe! I’m just tryna have a little fun!” He bounds over to you, his little friend bouncing along with him. You just know you’re going to regret listening to Tanaka, for giving him that stupid pair of underwear. Your sanity could only take so much. “I won’t be able to see you for a while, wanna make my time with you worth it.”

His hand rests on your cheek, thumb stroking idly over it. Your eyes flutter shut, enjoying his soft touch. As much as you tried to stay mad at him or pretend to be annoyed by his casual antics, you did enjoy his little quips and playfulness, his tight embrace and calloused hands. You loved every bit of him, candy cane boxers included.

“You could make your time worth it by throwing on some sweatpants or something,” you mutter, peeking and eye at him. He pauses his gentle ministrations to peer down at you, and you nudge his away from you. That thing was far too close to your face for comfort. “Seriously, I didn’t get you those just for you to swing that around.”

“Heh, I think that’s exactly what you did,” he smirks, shuffling backwards to stand proudly in the center of the room, as if he’s a goddamn runway model. You peek back over to him, but like a magnet, your eyes drift downwards and—whoops, the pictures above the fireplace are looking real interesting right about now. He doesn’t miss your bashfulness.

“Hey, why don’t you try on the underwear set for me?” He asks, hopeful. He’s trying so hard not to pry into your comfort zone or make you feel uneasy, but he’s seen you in far less than a scrap of fabric. Hell, he would be happy just to see your cute little body in that babydoll for a fraction of a second.

“I dunno… Maybe if you put something else on, and even then...” You gesture vaguely towards his friend, eyes averted towards anything that isn’t that. Why did you have to listen to Tanaka for gift-giving advice? A cute pair of socks would have done just fine.

“Please!” He jumps up, eyes wide as he waves his hands back and forth for your attention. Maybe you set something off in him, his movements frenzied and desperate. “I would kill just to catch a glimpse of you in that, please just spare me that! Look!” 

Nishinoya speeds upstairs, taking the steps three strides at a time and leaving you frozen in the living room. He doesn’t give you much time to process anything before he’s back on the main floor once more, a pair of gray sweatpants now hiding the hideous candy cane fun stick from your holy eyes. Clasping his hands around yours, he pleads with you, eyes sparkling as he gazes up at you, “If I could only get one thing for Christmas tonight, and die by morning, it would be to see your heavenly figure draped in translucent red lace.”

That earns an eye roll. Men.

“Okay, I’ll try it on! No need to be so dramatic!” You push him playfully to the side and head to go change. You weren’t as bold as your boyfriend, so trying on lingerie for the other’s enjoyment didn’t come as natural as it did for him.  
He listens to your footsteps travel up the stairs to the bathroom. Once he’s sure you’re out of ear shot, he practically squeals, clutching his fist as he screams with joy. He would have to brag to Tanaka about this later. Nothing could top seeing his gorgeous goddess in red. He can’t help the single tear that rushes down his cheek, murmuring a quiet, “Gods above, thank you for blessing me on this night.”

You hesitate on the threshold of the room, debating whether or not you could lie and say it didn’t fit, or actually show off the revealing outfit he bought you. It was such a considerate and gift and yes it was beautiful, but how did it look on you? The lacey red babydoll felt foreign on your skin, the garment covering everything important and yet nothing at all.

“So… how does it look…?”

“Like a goddess,” he breathes. His eyes glass over, wide as he practically bores holes into your form. He claps his hands together and falls to his knees in front of you, and oh god is he crying? The desire to please your boyfriend outweighs the desire to roll your eyes at his dramatics, and you let him shout praises that fall on deaf ears. “You’re so beautiful; really I mean, wow, you’re… gorgeous. I could stare at you night and day and never become tired from being in your glowing presence.”

“I’m not sure if I feel super comfortable wearing this,” you mumble, rubbing the sides of your bare arms. It was a cute lingerie set, sexy without revealing too much, but you couldn’t shake the insecurity creeping up on you. While Nishinoya’s compliments did wonders for your self-esteem, the sight of your curves and flesh spilling over the delicate lace was not one you were accustomed to. “It’s cold, too.”

“Oh! I can fix that!” He springs to his feet and snatches one the quilts off his couch, then rushes over to wrap it around your exposed form. It’s endearing how respectful he is of your personal comfort, pulling the ends of the blanket secure around your front and grinning up at you. You’re sure the heat covering your cheeks couldn’t get any worse, despite the chill. “There, all bundled up, yeah? I can get the fire going again, just give me a second.”

He springs back over to the fireplace, and you tug the blanket tighter as you follow in behind him. He squats in front of the broken logs, giving the burnt wood a good stab with the iron as he blows on it, urging the fire to once again reignite. A few seconds later, a small flame flourishes, and he grins over at you triumphantly as he rekindles the fire for your warmth.

Nishinoya scoots away as you kneel in front of his handiwork, and he slides in behind you. Your head falls back on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist, his natural warmth comforting you far more than the fire ever could (though you greatly appreciate the overflowing heat from the hearth) , and you hum appreciatively.

“Ne, Noya?” You mutter, eyes slipping closed as you relax in his embrace. The next few weeks would be dimmer without your little libero, and you wanted to soak in as much as his radiance tonight. “I really do appreciate your gift.”

“I’m glad, it looks great on you, really,” he says, and you can’t resist the urge to turn your head slightly to give him a little peck on the lips. “You know, if you ever wanna wear this cute little set just for me anytime soon, I wouldn’t mind.”

You whip your head back around to hide the flush on your face. He laughs at your modest reaction, laying a small kiss to the back of your neck. It was incredible, really, how much this man adored you, loved you, all of you. You only hope he understands how much he means to you as well.

“I love you,” you mumble, and even though you can’t see his face, you can feel him squeeze you tighter, his lips forming into a bashful smile of his own against your bare shoulder.

“I love you too, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not sleep when writing this chapter. I pulled an all-nighter and wrote a completely different fic than this one (the Sakusa angst fic (>ω^)) and now I'm tired and need to write day six. Such is the life of a tired fanfic author churning out mediocre Christmas content.


	6. Bokuto Koutarou (ft. Akaashi Keiji)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Bokuto and Akaashi getting coffee after a long day of Christmas shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied poly relationship? idk this was supposed to be just Bokuto's chapter but then Akaashi would be lonely... :(

[December 19th]  
You hadn’t anticipated for holiday shopping to be quite as stressful as it is.

Of course, it’s entirely your fault for waiting until the stores were practically packed with other procrastinating significant others and parents who thought the week before Christmas was the perfect time to search for that one sold-out item on their list. The sight of people practically tripping over themselves to maneuver around the crowded store filled you with pity. Such a shame that the holiday season has been reduced to an obsession of perfectly wrapped capitalistic corporate greed—

“Babe!” A large, warm body collides with you, nearly knocking you off your feet as you squeal, strong arms cradling you into a broad chest. It’s no mystery whose tight embrace you’re squeezed into, and you crane your neck to confirm your suspicions. Bokuto smiles sweetly down at you, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“I thought I lost you for a second! I turned around and you were gone—I thought you got trampled.” He doesn’t relent on his brawny embrace, only spinning you around to press a wide kiss against your cheeks. You don’t have the energy to push him off of you, already used to his public antics; though you wish he would’ve saved the affection for when you two weren’t standing in the middle of a department store, impeding on the flow of traffic. The PDA attracts a few wandering eyes.

“You saw me like, five minutes ago; I told you I was going to look upstairs for that onigiri mold for Akaashi,” you say, placing your hands on his muscular chest to have enough distance to look up at him. Even under all his winter layers, you can feel the tense power rippling underneath. Digging a small box out of your reusable bag, you wave the cute purchase at him. It’s a relatively cheap set, but you hope the setter will enjoy it. Hell, you’ll use it yourself to cook him onigiri if he would prefer that. “It’s like, nine-hundred yen.”

“I searched for you all over the store,” Bokuto continues, hardly paying attention to your words. “I even had to ask the lady at the reception desk if she had seen you—but she thought I was looking for a missing child.”

You roll your eyes and step out of his arms. Leave it to his dramatic ass to take the furthest step possible when all he had to do was walk up an escalator. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Of course!” He pouts, trailing after you like a kicked puppy. As you stop to peek at a clearance rack, his eyes practically light up as he grabs your wrist. It’s like your words are just now processing for him, or he’s just suddenly remembered something important, because the next thing you know he’s dragging you back down the aisle. “Hey, hey, speaking of Akaashi—I saw the most perfect t-shirt for him, I really think he’d love it!”

“If you say so,” you hum, but acquiesce to the captain’s firm tug as he pulls you through the crowd. He drags you out of the store and into another just adjacent to it, and you laugh at his neverending enthusiasm. “Just don’t be disappointed when he doesn’t wear it.”

This wouldn’t be the first Christmas Bokuto’s bought something that no human being on earth would be caught dead wearing, and as he shows you the half-sleeve t-shirt, you can’t hide your frown. There’s no way in hell Akaashi would wear that, but you let the ace down easy as you smile and wave your hands.

“Maybe hold out on that one…? Let’s see if we can’t find anything better first,” you say, pushing the hanger back onto the rack and slipping your fingers into his. He immediately forgets the god-awful clothing as he pulls you to his chest.

The two of you bounce around the mall for half an hour more, idly browsing through whatever department store looked mildly interesting. You’re only half-paying attention to what Bokuto’s saying or what he grabs to show you, already happy with your own purchase of the day. Thank god you finally finished up your holiday shopping, because it feels like the longer you linger around the mall, the more people flood in to grab what’s left on the shelf.

“Ne, Bokuto, let’s get some coffee. It’s really suffocating being here.” You pat his bicep, garnering his attention just as he was fiddling with the sample display of makeup left on the glass, and he nods happily.

“Sure! I know this great place a few blocks down—” he pulls you to his side, arm slung around your shoulder as he leads you out of the mall, randomly listing off his favorite drinks at some downbeat cafe. It’s a place he and Akaashi visit often, so he’s familiar with the menu when you two push through the front doors, the small jingle of the bell notifying the waitress of your arrival.

It’s a small joint, with only a few booths and one worker, but it’s empty and warm; a breath of fresh air from the cramped, crowded condition of the mall. You settle into a booth by the window, and Bokuto slides in right across from you as the waitress steps up to take your orders.

Bokuto fills the comfortable silence with cheery babbling, rambling on about anything and everything. You gaze at him with a lazy grin, cheek resting in your hand as your eyes glisten. A yawn parts your lips, and you squint your eyes as they drift away from the man and towards the window. Quickly, they snap open, vision clearing to reveal an empty sidewalk in the space where you could’ve sworn you saw a flash of dark hair on a limber figure.

The bell jingles as a new customer walks in, immediately drawing both of your attention. Bokuto’s eyes light up, standing and waving at the man to get his attention.

“Akaashi!” He shouts, far louder than needed in the small coffee shop when you three are the only customers, but you can’t fault him for his excitement. You hadn’t expected to see the man today, but your heart swells at the happy coincidence you three found yourselves in. “Come here, come sit with us!”

His surprise must’ve been evident, because he flinches at the ace’s booming voice. His eyes travel from the boisterous man to your smaller frame sitting across from him, and you offer him a small wave as he walks over.

“Hey, Keiji,” you say, patting the seat beside you in invitation. He slips in beside you (much to Bokuto’s dismay, as he had scooted over to make room for the second-year to sit next to him) and slides his arm just over your shoulders, along the top of the booth.

“Funny seeing you two here,” he remarks. “Bokuto said you two would be out of town today.”

“Ah, we would’ve, but we missed our train this morning. So we just decided to finish up our Christmas shopping in Tokyo.” He nods, accepting your explanation. You turn to him and lay a hand on his leg, grinning up at him.

“It’s a good thing too, because we happened to run into you, huh?” Bokuto grins, sticking his fist out at the man. Akaashi simply raises his eyebrow before shaking his head, returning his attention back to you.

“A little late to go shopping, isn’t it?”

“I know,” you sigh. He was the one who told you to get your Christmas shopping finished before the busy hours late into the season, and you had brushed it off with foolish confidence. Still, you managed to get everything you desired on your list—and more. “I’m just the worst, aren’t I?”

“Hey, Akaashi~” Bokuto interrupts, stealing the man’s attention away as you momentarily sulk. “What do you think of a wicked cool t-shirt that says ‘You can’t set with us?’ It’s a reference to this American movie, but it’s a volleyball pun! I really think—”

You cringe as he mentions that horrid t-shirt he found in the clearance section. There was a reason it was marked 75% off its original price, and you cast a grimace towards Akaashi. He meets your gaze out of the corner of his eye, and you give a subtle, polite shake of your head. Might as well help shut this down before the knucklehead goes through with a wasteful purchase.

“Bokuto, please do not buy me a t-shirt,” Akaashi deadpans.

“What about a Christmas sweater?”

“... depends on what kind.”

The two men continue on in their conversation, and you let yourself relax as you idly listen to their bickering. Seeing them outside of school, outside of volleyball practice was always a treat; especially since your new arrangement meant that you would be seeing both of them much more. And even better, you had the opportunity to spend your winter break with them—no other Fukurodani teammates crashing your plans, no teachers giving loads of homework that prevented the three of you from meeting up, and no coach barking for you to stop flirting with the players. Just the three of you.

Akaashi turns to you. “What have you been out looking for?” At your owlish blinks, he elaborates, “Shopping.”

Oh—! Of course, you picked quite a few things for both of your boys, but you can’t outright say what you plan on surprising him with. Especially since Akaashi’s onigiri mold still sits to your right, wrapped in plastic and hidden from his view. But, maybe you could indulge the second-year about Bokuto’s gift… “Hmm, can you keep a secret?”

Akaashi hums as you pull him down, placing a hand to cover your lips from Bokuto’s eyesight. He squints at the two of you as you whisper in his ear. The setter keeps a straight face as you tell him what you bought, but the edges of his mouth twitch up at the increasing despair crossing his teammate’s face from across the booth.

“Ah? What secret? Are you hiding something from me, babe?” Bokuto yells, leaning forward to try and listen. You give a hidden peck against Akaashi’s cheek after you finish telling your secret, and turn back to the ace with a smirk.

“Ne, what about you, Keiji-kun?” You ask, layering on the sugary sweet tone as you pucker your lips. It’s a little tease, something the two of you indulge in to see Bokuto’s unique reactions. Though occasionally this game goes south and you both end up consoling the moody owl, you can’t help but poke the metaphorical bear.

“Ah, I see. Here,” Akaashi nods as he leans in to whisper his own secret to you. Bokuto groans from across the booth, slamming his head against the table. You feel Akaashi’s small smile against your cheekbone before pulling away.

“Are you two plotting against me? Why can’t I listen in?” He wails, fingers threading through his hair and gripping tight. You fight back a grin, a laugh already bubbling in your chest, and you feel Akaashi’s knee bump against yours underneath the table. Bokuto peeks up at the two of you, his arm stretching across the table with a whine. “This is unfair, we’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other.”

“It’s a surprise, Kou,” you reach across the table to intertwine your fingers with his, leaning down to press a small kiss against the back of his hand. Despite his pouting, your cheeky little smile brings a spark of joy that helps readjust his mood. “You’ll see in a few days; besides, I think the wait’ll be worth it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. The three of us get to spend the holidays together this year, y’know. I’m really looking forward to being with you two,” you murmur, rubbing your thumb along his knuckles. You feel Akaashi’s hand graze your thigh underneath the table, resting comfortably on your soft flesh. With Bokuto’s tender gaze trained on you with such fondness, alongside Akaashi’s gentle yet homely touch, you doubt you could feel more loved than you were right then in that moment.

“It’s gonna be the best!” An arm slings itself around your neck, the other slung around Akaashi’s as Bokuto lunges forward to wrap you both in an awkward embrace. He pulls you both forward to rest his chin between your shoulders, and you slide a hand up to rub circles on his back. It’s uncomfortable for everyone involved, especially since Bokotu still has his knees propped up on the seat on his own side of the booth, his body draped over the table. You can only imagine the look on Akaashi’s face. It makes you smile. “I’m so grateful for my pretty setter and manager this year—I really wanna show you two how much you mean to me!”

“Of course,” Akaashi mumbles, his voice soft. You feel his hand trail up the ace’s back, briefly brushing across yours before dropping again. A laugh leaves you as you hear him say in a quieter voice, “we’re still in public, you know.” God, you wish you could see his red face right now.

“Excuse me,” the apprehensive voice of the waitress drags you back to reality, the woman standing over you with clear demure. You pat Bokuto’s back to get him off of you, and he gives one last tight squeeze before sinking back onto his own side of the booth. Akaashi’s apologetic glance at the waitress did little to ease the embarrassment you felt at the situation. But that was to be expected when you got tangled up between the overly affectionate captain and his stoney setter. “Did you have the iced latte and peppermint mocha?”

Bokuto, unfazed, appreciatively takes the drinks from the lady, and she’s quick to evacuate the vicinity. He just gives you a cheeky grin as he slides your coffee over to you, and from the corner of your eyes, swear you could see the faintest hint of a smile hanging at the corners of Akaashi’s mouth. You can’t help but mirror their expressions, a small warmth blooming in your chest.

There was nothing in the world you were more grateful for than the two men you loved most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late upload bc I was out of town tonight sorry :(


	7. Iwaizumi Hajime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Iwaizumi Hajime getting into an aggressive snowball fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter!! Because I love!!! Aoba Johsai!!!!!

[December 20th]

“I just don’t get why he doesn’t respect me like Iwa-chan,” Oikawa grumbles trailing along behind you as you lock up the gym. He kicks a clump of snow with his sneaker, eyes closed as he thinks aloud to himself. You roll your eyes as you hear him sigh. “Or Yahaba and you, on the occasion. But not me, his captain! Doesn’t he understand I just want what's best for him?”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” you say, patting the man on the chest as you slide your keys into your pocket. He’s just being dramatic that the one practice game Mad Dog showed up to ended with the poor captain being cussed out. You can’t help the wicked grin stretched across your face as you turn away from him and start walking along the snow-covered path. “Kyoutani just doesn’t like you is all.”

He narrows his eyes at your tone, and you can feel his piercing gaze on the back of your neck as he jogs to catch up to you. For as long as you’ve known the pretty setter, he’s never been one to accept that sometimes people just don’t like him. It’s a miracle that he ever gave up on you after you bluntly denied his advances a few years ago.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to speak a little nicer to your—“ he doesn’t have the chance to finish his snarky retort before a ball of ice slams into his face, nearly knocking him off his balance. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the explosion of laughter that erupts from your chest, much to the brunet’s dismay. He wipes the snow off with the sleeve of his volleyball jacket, clearly pissed off as he shouts, “Hey now, who threw that?!”

“Oikawa, what’s taking you so long?” Hanamaki calls out a few paces ahead of you two, Matsukawa and Iwaizumi on either side of him. If the lazy smirk adorning his lips were any indication, he’s the culprit of the nasty cold chilling the captain’s face. Matsukawa snickers beside him, while the vice captain looks just the slightest bit pleased. “You’re looking a bit too red there, Frosty, you might melt if you get too warm.”

“You little—“ Oikawa squats to the ground to form his own snowball in retaliation, giving in to the third-years goading at his flushed face, and pelts the projectile back at his teammate with the full force of his right arm. He’s already grabbing another ball as his first one misses its initial target, smacking right into the side of Iwaizumi’s head.

The ace rears, surprised by the sudden hit, and looks slowly over to his friend. You freeze, grimacing at the missed hit, but Oikawa doesn’t miss a beat before he’s laughing at the fiery look of his new opponent.

“Stupid shittykawa,” Iwaizumi grabs a clump of snow and hails it across the barren courtyard, sailing at a speed faster than Oikawa’a playful punch. “Your aim is as pitiful as your arm!”

Except those words tend to turn on Iwaizumi as the pellet of snow knocks _you_ off your feet, head flying back from the force of the impact. He feels his stomach sink at seeing his little manager go down, the hit clearly meant for someone more capable of taking such brute strength. Makki and Matsu burst out laughing as Iwaizumi runs off towards you, trying to make sure you are okay. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

Oikawa’s already helped you into a sitting position, his snowball forgotten on the ground beside him. He clicks his tongue as his friend kneels beside you, brushing your hair out of your face to find a streak of blood dripping from your nose. He brushes the red liquid with his thumb, attempting to wipe it away but only further smearing it across your upper lip.

“Such a meanie, Iwa-chan, pounding our poor, defenseless manager like that,” Oikawa chastises, which only irritates the ace more. He has half a mind to wipe the vicious sneer off the setter’s face, but chooses to ignore him with a nasty side-eye.

You’re not crying or pouting, and he worries for a second the spaced-out look on your face could be the beginning signs of a concussion. He leans in closer, tilting your head back to check your pupils, and you flush at the close proximity, mouth hanging open like a fish as whatever comment you had for him dies on your tongue.

“Are you feeling okay? I didn’t mean to hit you that hard, I’m sorry—” a pillow of snow slaps into his face, the force behind it weak but intentional, as he can feel your small palm covering his face. In his distraction, you had grabbed Oikawa’s forgotten ammunition to seek your revenge against his cruel hit.

You slide your hand off his stunned face, already curling around another clump of snow to formulate an attack. “Stupid idiots, both of your aims suck!” Another snowball hits him in his neck, less power due to the small distance you’ve put between him as you scooted away, and you’re already throwing more insults at him. “I can’t believe you both call yourselves volleyball players!”

There’s no malice behind your words, only lighthearted teasing as you initiate a full on war against him. The corners of his mouth tilt upwards, a playful gleam in his eye as he leans down to create his own attack.

Oikawa rolls his eyes as the two of you lob snow at each other like grade schoolers, but a shriek tears itself out his throat before he can reprimand either of you. He turns to meet the devilish gazes of both Matsukawa and Makki, the former tossing a snowball up and down in his hands as he taunts the captain. “Hey, we don’t wanna be left out of the action now!”

The middle blocker’s throw just nearly misses the top of Oikawa’s ducked head, the latter’s eyes wide and shocked, and the two share a look of understanding before racing after their captain.

“Come here, pretty boy!”

Matsukawa’s voice rings in your ear, a particularly well aimed snowball against your ear briefly knocking you out of commission. Either Iwaizumi didn’t know his full strength, or he just simply enjoyed pelting you with powerful blows every time. Your throws were considerably weaker, but you made up for lack of raw power with speed and frequency. For every well-timed hit from your friend, you could toss two or three snowballs with fairly accurate aim.  
However, your lack of athleticism begins to show as your breathing gets heavier from constantly running and hiding. Curse these volleyball players and their never ending stamina; you’d have to concede defeat at this rate, and you doubt Oikawa was holding his own against the taller duo (though you can’t see them from where they’ve disappeared around the corner, as Tooru’s shrill shrieks are the only indicator they’re still in the area).

Making one last-ditch effort before you collapse from exhaustion, you race to wait behind a tall pillar underneath the gym’s colonnade. You slink to a crouch, holding the ball of snow close to your chest as you take a deep breath. You can hear Hajime’s heavy steps crunch the snow beneath his feet, and you stop breathing as you will your heart to quiet its rapid beating. He raises your name as a question, his footsteps stilling just a yard away, and you take his hesitance as an opportunity to strike.

Iwaizumi topples over as your body collides with his, a sharp chill running across his face as you smack a glob of snow against his chin. You land on his stomach, his hands instinctively reaching up to cradle your body in an attempt to protect you from the fall, even as you attack him with a vengeance. He growls as he shakes his head back and forth, clearing the snow from his vision as you crawl onto your elbows above him, a wide grin across your face.

God, you look beautiful like this; hovering above his body surrounded by a halo of snow, pretty lips parted in a laugh, and eyes squinted with joy. He doesn’t even process the cackle of victory you derive from his flushed, prone state, simply basking in the feeling of you on top of him for as long as he can. It’s the small things in life.

“I won,” you say, voice breathy and light. He can’t help but roll his eyes and sit up suddenly, knocking you into his lap so he can talk with you on an even playing field.

“That was a dirty trick and you know it,” he ruffles your hair, shaking out the gathered snowflakes. “I was totally cleaning your clock before you decided to be sneaky.”

You huff. “How else was I supposed to try to win? You hit really hard, y’know. Like, really hard.” Your small hands rub your arm, a mock pout on your lips as you try to gain his pity for attacking you with such bruising strength. His fingers trace up your sides to your bicep, massaging the muscle as an apology.

“‘m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard at first, you know,” he mutters, referencing when you ate shit from his first hit intended for Oikawa. But it might have been worth it, just to have you resting in his lap as he holds you in his arms to soothe your soreness. This is the closest he’s ever been to you, and he doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

Unfortunately, you pop your head up at the sound of crunching snow behind him, moving off of his lap quickly to stand as you greet your captain and fellow third-years. Oikawa is positively ruined, not a square inch of him spared from the brutal snow beating brought upon him by his peers. You feel a little bad for him, getting double-teamed like that; Iwaizumi was hard enough to handle on his own, so you couldn’t imagine trying to face off two trained volleyball players.

Iwaizumi hops up and dusts himself as you throw yourself into conversation with the other three, all heading towards the school entrance to part ways and head home. He lingers behind as you poke fun at Oikawa’s loss, bragging about your own victory over the ace (which garners Hajime a smug look from Mattsun and a snicker from Makki, who both seem to enjoy seeing the vice captain go red over his crush), before you wave goodbye.

Lucky for him, you and Iwaizumi lived on the same side of town, your houses only a few blocks from one another, so he had the golden opportunity to walk with you every afternoon. Today was no different, the two of you falling into easy conversation as you discuss plans for the upcoming winter break, excitement over graduating high school, volleyball tournaments, etc. Talking to you is just so simple, so easy. Comfortable.

“If you catch a cold, I’ll kick your ass, you know,” Iwaizumi grumbles. You simply snicker and shake your head. He was a caring guy… in his own way. The way he ruffles your hair affectionately after the threat is just a testament to whatever soft gooey feelings are harbored underneath those layers of hard muscle.

“That threat only works with Oikawa.”

“Because he knows I’ll go through with it,” he huffs, pausing as the two of you approach your apartment complex. His feet drag as he follows you up the stairs, hesitant as you unlock the door to your home.

“Would you like to come in…?” you ask, pointing with your thumb to the open door. He can practically feel the warmth radiating from the room, a soft scent that reminds him of you drifting through the opening, but he shakes his head, coughing into his fist to obscure the slight blush on his cheeks.

“No, I need to get back. It’s already dark.” As much as he would like to stay over, he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle relaxing with his not-so-secret crush alone in their home; especially since he was about seventy-five percent sure you had a thing for Oikawa. Most people did, afterall.

“Ah, I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for practice, okay?” Your hand brushes against his, his skin tingling at the lingering touch as you step forward. He can feel the soft, warm breath hitting his chin as you look up at him, and he’s suddenly reminded of the snow surrounding the both of you, covering you from head to toe thanks to your previous endeavours. Your touch is just as frigid as it is electrifying, and he can’t clear his head when he’s so close to you. 

“Yeah yeah, now go warm up, you’re freezing cold,” he says. He averts his eyes away from your twinkling irises and pretty upturned lips as you give his hand a long, tight squeeze (since when were you holding his hand?) before letting go and stepping inside. He waits for a moment, staring at the closed door, processing the day’s events. A grin forms across his lips, and he shakes his head, heading back down the stairs and towards his house a few blocks down.  
The next morning, Iwaizumi jolts awake from nearly choking on his own congestion, followed by a sneeze shaking him of his sleepy state. It’s only a few minutes before his alarm would have originally gone off, and he scowls at the bright green letters on his clock. Still, he’d rather not hit snooze and risk sleeping in; the volleyball team wouldn’t wait for a tardy ace.

Another sneeze rocks through his body, and he wipes away the residue with the back of his hand. His entire body felt heavy and sluggish, a numb ache stretching across his body. He chalks the chills and general shakiness of his fingers up to an uncharacteristic morning slump, but as a particularly harsh cough erupts from him as he’s brushing his teeth, he can’t deny that he has, in fact, caught a cold.

Karma’s a bitch, heh?

He quickly rinses out his mouth in the sink and tosses his toothbrush aside, ready to flop himself back on the bed and shoot Tooru a text. It was rare that Iwaizumi missed a practice (he had to set an example to the first and second-years as the vice captain), but he knew when to pick his battles, and when to put his body to rest.

As he swipes up on his homescreen, he catches the sight of a little red notification from you, a text from a few minutes ago:

_yn: hajime… i have a confession to make…_

Panic seizes him, his muscles going tense as he types out a reply. What kind of confession did you have for him? There was no possible way you meant _that_ kind of confession—

He shakes his head to correct his train of thought. No way, no how.

_ih: What is it??_

_yn: i caught a cold. i can’t make it to practice today :(_

_ih: I told you not to get sick, idiot—_

Ah, so you also have the chills. So much for getting his stupid hopes up, it was only going to end in disappointment. Still, he responds with the same level of honesty, admitting his own shortcomings. It’s cute how you texted him just to let him know of your health after tussling in the snow for so long.

_ih: but I can’t get mad, since I also woke up with a cold this morning_

_yn: hajime you hypocrite!! now i have to go over there and kick your ass_

_ih: ha, I’d like to see you try_

He sets his phone down on his bed, ready to leave it at that and go make a warm breakfast downstairs, when your name flashes on his phone once more. He can’t resist its siren call, and swipes open to your text with knitted eyebrows.

_yn: k_

_yn: i’ll be over in twenty. someone has to take care of you_

A sigh pours over his lips as he drags a hand down his face, fully prepared to shoot you down. He had no doubt that you would try to trudge over to his house with a cold of your own just to attend to him (you were such a kind manager, afterall), and there was no way he was going to let you put yourself under such stress while sick. The idea of you coming over, however, is a pleasing one that he simply can’t resist… not when you’re offering to visit him so freely.

_iw: Why don’t you try taking care of yourself first?_

_yn: why would i do that when we can take care of each other, hajime ;)_

He nearly chokes at the wording of your last line, the little winky face tagged onto the end making his mind drift elsewhere. But, having you over at his house, snuggled under his blankets as you both watch movies and share a bowl of hot rice porridge seemed like a fair trade-off for missing practice. He shoots you back a quick text, hiding his smile in the back of his hand, as if you could somehow see through the screen.

_iw: in that case, i’ll see you soon-_


	8. Tanaka Saeko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Saeko Tanaka driving you to a tree farm.

[December 21st]

“Saeko, left, left!”

You practically shriek, holding onto the side handlebars for dear life. This wasn’t the first time you’ve ridden shotgun to Saeko’s reckless driving, but it was the first you’ve had to deal with her zooming down icy roads. The only thing keeping you in a calm state as she passes yet another trucker is the comforting hand resting on your thigh, and the loud, blasting music playing over the speakers.

She jerks the wheel over to the left, narrowly avoiding the tailend of a pissed off minivan. Her laugh fills your ears, lulling your eyes closed to calm your own heartbeat, and she simply says, “No worries, I’ve got you!”

Maybe you would’ve believed that if she didn’t swerve hard in front of a truck riding in the left lane. You love this woman, more than anything on this planet, and you trusted her with your life! But your brain and your heart didn’t seem to communicate that fact, as your heartbeat continued to furiously pump pure adrenaline through your veins.

“Saeko, slow down and let this truck pass, the asshole’s riding your tail,” you say, eyeing the truck behind you in the rear view mirror. After slamming on his breaks to avoid hitting your girlfriend, he managed to speed back up and sit on your bumper. It doesn’t help that his vehicle is larger than Saeko’s company van (which would be bad for business if the other cars on the road associated the restaurant with her driving), easily intimidating you with its looming presence behind you.

“Hah, like hell I’m gonna let him pass if he’s gonna act like a dick—” she hits the gas again, speeding up to gain a considerable amount of distance before slowing back to her previous speed. “Eat my dust, asshole!”

A quick glance behind you could tell that your small gap of space between the two of you didn’t last long, as he’s already nose-deep in your tailend not even half a minute later. The man sped up just to ride the both of you again.

“He’s still tailing you,” you mumble, your hand slipping into hers on your lap. Her soft skin is a comfort against yours, and you hope your touch will be able to calm her down just a little bit. And then she can put it back onto the wheel. “Just slow down so we don’t have to deal with him, we’re almost to the farm anyway.”

“No way,” she shifts the stick over a level, switching gears as she speeds far above the legal limit. Her hand does slip from yours to grab the steering wheel, but it doesn’t ease the dread in your chest or give you some false sense of security. It’s a sign that things are getting serious. “He can eat my shit for all I care, I’m not gonna let some middle-aged dick tail and piss me off.”

You choose to keep your mouth shut, especially since she’s the most antagonistic person on the road at the moment. There’s probably been about twenty or so cars you’ve passed on this long stretch of highway that she has personally offended with her driving, so really the guy has a right to be pissed. Doesn’t give him an excuse to act rude back, especially since he’s goading a woman without any sense of self-preservation into a asphalt fight. Pity the fool who dares to go against Tanaka Saeko.

The truck behind you pulls into the right lane, speeding up beside your van to sneer at the two of you. He’s an older man with a bear and a nasty scowl, one he doesn’t spare the two of you from as he sticks his head out the window to yell profanities. At least your own window is closed and the music is too loud to hear whatever insults he throws your way, but that doesn’t stop Saeko from returning a cheeky middle finger to the motherfucker.

“Saeko,” you warn through gritted teeth and a forced smile, unable to tear your eyes away from the man outside. You’re not sure which maniac you’re more afraid of: the middle-aged man willing to curse out two young adults, or the woman egging him on with her erratic driving. “This is gonna end badly—!”

She steps on the gas, jolting the car forward as you duck your head down. If you were going to die, you’d rather not see how you pass; but that doesn’t stop you from peeking through your fingers as she jeers to the right, cutting off the jerk as he speeds up to tap her bumper. She gives a victorious hoot, head thrown back to get a good look at the at the man's face through the back window, and you don’t have time to grab the wheel before you’re swerving off the road and oh god—

Your bodies are thrown forward, caught by your seatbelts before you both can go flying through the window as the car slams into a pile of snow off the side of the road. Saeko grabs your hand and squeezes it tight as you gasp wildly, trying to reorient yourself, before turning to see if she’s okay. There’s a joyous grin on her face as she cackles, shaking your hand back and forth as she goes to unbuckle.

“We’re here, baby,” she ruffles your hair as you stare over at her wide-eyed mouth agape. She hops out the car to inspect the front, noticing how the fluffy snow pile cushioned whatever damage could have been done. It needed to be pushed back onto the road for the wheels to gain the traction needed to get going again, but you would deal with that once there’s a tree strapped to the top. You hesitantly push open your door and step into the snow on shaky legs, silently thanking whatever deity above that’s allowed you to live another day in Saeko’s care.

The tree farm is relatively small, locally owned despite the two of you driving nearly three hours out of the way to visit an eco-friendly establishment. The two of you had graciously offered to bring back a tree for her family’s home, and you weren’t going to pass on the opportunity to both spend time with Saeko and wiggle your way into her parent’s good graces. Saeko holds your hand in one of hers with an axe in the other, leading you through the thick blanket of snow and shuffling aside white with every step. You stumble forward after her, trying to follow her exact footprints to make the walking easy on yourself.

“What kind of tree do you want?” She asks, still in high spirits despite crashing her car and heaving through heavy snow. You shrug in response, squinting at the plethora of trees scattered about the huge field.

“They’re all kinda the same, aren’t they?”

“Well yeah,” she shrugs, “but we need one that’s gonna fit inside the living room. And one that gives off good vibes.”

She slows her walking speed, allowing you to catch up and stand beside her, eyes gravitating towards her glowing side profile. “Define good vibes.”

You follow the length of her arm as she points up towards a tree at least twice the height of your house, with thick healthy branches that stretch far out. Her vibe detector obviously wasn’t in tune with the reality of what you both actually needed, seeing as there was no way in hell you could strap that enormous thing to the van (much less shove it inside a home).

Sensing your doubts, she runs to the side of the tree with axe in hand, a smile that you assume is supposed to give you comfort graces her pretty features, and she nods to the trunk. “I know she looks a little big, but we can trim her down to size! I have a good feeling about this one.”

With a sigh, you resign to her insistence, taking a few steps away from the tree and behind Saeko as she raises her axe to swing. Your entire body is freezing, and you frantically rub your covered arms to stimulate warmth as you watch her chop away at the poor wood. Chips fly off with every swing, and she has to stick a foot against the bark to pull free her weapon before diving right back in again. She works fast and efficiently, though you still wished you could’ve helped her to some extent, and a few minutes later, a low creaking signals its impending doom.

“Timber!” Saeko hollers and takes a few steps back, forcing you to also back away from the tumbling tree. The wood grew weak enough to crack and fall to the side, landing on the ground with an unceremonious _whoomp_.

“It’s perfect, huh?” She beams, looking at the newly fallen tree. You sidle up behind her to rest your chin against her shoulder, your arms wrapping around her waist. She slips a hand up and into your hair, scratching along your scalp. Her body is warm pressed against yours, and you can’t help but melt inside as you feel your frigid hands heat up from inside her jacket pockets.

“How are we gonna get it back on the van?” You ask, slumping your head into her neck.

“Hmm? With rope, of course!”

And that’s how you ended up dragging a far too large tree (even after Saeko chopped it in half down to a more reasonable size) through the snow and strapping it onto her pitiful little work van. The branches spill over on all sides, the top stretching over the windshield in a way that’s definitely a driving safety violation, and the blunt trunk hangs off the tailend. Of course, that was after you managed to push the car out of its home in the snow pile, a feat that proved far more difficult due to the uphill battle. However, you managed to get the van back on the road and the tree secured before the two of you drove off, your head resting on her thigh as she drove off.

“Ne, Saeko,” you mutter, and she hums to let you know she’s listening, her thumb tracing over the side of your face. You spare a glance up at her out of the corner of your eye, and she’s focused on the road with a one-hand grip on the steering wheel. “Do you think your family will like me?”  
There’s a hint of thinly-veiled insecurity in your voice, and she looks down at you to meet your eyes for a brief second. She jerks her wheel to the side, and you take a sharp breath in as your gut sinks momentarily. Her eyes are trained back on the road, but there’s a distinct frown on her lips.

“Where’s this coming from?” She asks, stroking your cheekbone. Her voice is light, but there’s an edge of sincerity that’s a strong contrast from your usual carefree Saeko. “You know Ryuu loves you, always has!”

“Yeah, I know,” that’s not the answer you were necessarily looking for; the younger Tanaka had taken a liking to you immediately as soon as he had heard you were dating his sister, so you didn’t really feel intimidated by his presence anymore. But, this was going to be the first time you would be meeting her parents, since they had graciously allowed you to stay at their home during the holiday seasons. It made bile rise to your throat at the thought of making a bad impression on the family of the love of your life. “You know what I mean…”

Saeko pauses, pondering on your words for a moment with a pensive stare. With a sigh, you sit up back into your own seat, but she grabs onto your wrist before you can go too far.

“Listen,” she says, and she spares you a genuine smile and a wink, “If I love you, then they’ll love you too. And trust me, I really do love you, babe.”

God, you could cry tears of joy at her statement, but you settle for leaning back over to press a chaste kiss against her cheek. You take pleasure in seeing her cheeks heat up just the slightest, her grin going wide as she grips the collar of your shirt to yank you over for a proper kiss. She hums into your lips, and you want to enjoy the moment for as long as possible, you really do, but the sudden realization of where you two were and at what speeds she was traveling at hit you—are those headlights?

The wheels screech as she jerks both her mouth from yours and the wheel to the side, forcing the car to run off the opposite side of the road to prevent a head-on collision with an eighteen wheeler, and you simply shriek and hold on for dear life as you feel the car crash into a ditch. Again.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, slamming your head on the dashboard, and Saeko has the audacity to _laugh_. You don’t want to look at the damage, but peeking between your fingers makes you groan. How can she laugh when the tree you so carefully tied to the roof of the car shot off and crashed onto the ground like it was nothing? “Saeko, the tree.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” she says, hopping out of the car, and you follow. The ropes snapped, leaving you with very little to tie back together, and you can’t help but pout.

“Saeko…” you whine pitifully, tossing your head into her chest as she comes to you, and she laughs again at your distraught little features. Your hands wander inside her jacket and around her waist, pulling her close as you contemplate your future; would her parents be understanding of a broken tree and a banged-up car, especially since you were indirectly responsible for the mess?

“This is your fault, y’know,” she says as she throws her arms around your shoulders, rubbing your back with a cheeky little smirk on the corner of her lips. “For distracting your driver.”

You can’t share her enthusiasm, not when the tree you were taking to her parent’s house now lays stranded on the muddy snow and her work van most definitely has a dent in the front.

Still, wrapped up in her warm embrace, you wouldn’t trade it for the world; consequences be damned.


	9. Miya Atsumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Miya Atsumu trapped inside during a snowstorm.

[December 22nd]

“Jeez, where’s this snowstorm coming from?”

Your teeth are chattering as you hobble along, a frigid hand dug deep into your jacket pocket while the other is intertwined with Atsumu’s long fingers, the blond looking refreshed by the winter air as if it were a gentle cool breeze. Still, he’s the only source of warmth you have until you get back home, so you cling to him a little tighter and huddle just a bit closer to feel his body heat.

“It’s hailing pretty hard,” he observes, casually as if you were discussing the weather on a cloudy day; except it’s quite nearly storming with the way the winds are picking up, nearly knocking you both over as you dart from store awning to awning, desperately attempting to avoid the harsh extremities outside. “Hey, why don’t we stop for some drinks somewhere, get out of the weather?”

“I’d rather j-just get home,” you mumble, your lips now numb as the winds whip at your face. Your nose is numb too, along with your hands and fingers and toes—and you’re only about a block or two away from your house, so you could just run home to warm up—but your damn boyfriend is too relaxed and unaffected to hurry. “It’s so fucking cold out here.”

“Aww, do you need me to warm you up? C’mere, doll.” He grins, throwing his arm over your shoulders to tug you inside his open, awaiting jacket. You nearly moan at the newfound warmth, your arms wrapping around his waist and hugging him tight as he swaddles you in his embrace. He grins down at you, but you can’t help the small scowl that crosses your face as your pace slows considerably. Sure you were warm, but it would take ages to waddle back home, especially since the storm seems to be picking up; large chunks of ice and snow are falling at a more rapid rate, and you’re worried you’ll be stuck in one of these little shops or underneath it’s canopy if you stick around for too much longer.

“This isn’t helping, idiot,” you complain, and he can feel your tiny body shiver and shudder against him. Despite his tight hold, you unwind yourself from his grasp and slip your fingers back between his, dragging him forward as you begin to speed walk. “Let’s just hurry home, alright?”

Ten minutes later, and you’re unlocking your front door, the both of your stumbling in and slipping off your snow-sodden shoes. Atsumu slips off his coat and helps you out of yours, immediately rubbing his hands along your cold arms to help warm you up faster.

“I think we just barely missed the worst of it,” you remark through chattering teeth. “We’ll be lucky if there’s not snow up to our knees by morning.”

“I guess that just means I’ll have to stay the night,” he winks down at you, but you’re too cold to give him a proper retort or roll your eyes to your usual fashion, so you settle for gazing up at him with what you hope is a caviling look. “You don't want me to wander out in the cold all alone, do you?”

“No, I guess not,” you mutter, easily caving in to his demands. The company would be nice, especially with the freezing temperatures seeping into the thin walls of the house. You pull away from his greedy hands, much to his dismay, and he nearly whines at the loss of contact with you. “I’m gonna go grab a shower to warm up, feel free make yourself at home.”

“Oh I will!” He calls as you waltz upstairs. Atsumu has been around your house plenty of times, enough to know where everything is and navigate the halls by himself. He’s probably poking around your kitchen or trailing after you to head to your bedroom as you slide into the bathroom, set on warming yourself up.

A few minutes later, you step and dry yourself off. The cool chill of the house ruins all of your progress as it hits your skin, freezing you down to your toes. You simply groan and throw on a bathrobe, setting out to see where the setter had wandered off to.

He’s in the living room, unsurprisingly, lounging on the couch in his snow-ridden clothes, flipping through random channels on the television. His eyebrows are knitted together as he focuses on the screen, thumbing through whatever shows are on faster than you could process what was actually showing. You just smile and sneak around him.

“Okay cutie, your turn,” you say, coming up behind him sitting on the couch to wrap your arms around his shoulder. The angle allows you to peck a small kiss to the side of his neck, your wet hair dangling down to tickle his cheeks and ears, and he hums at your gracious actions. He tilts his head in your grasp, grabbing the collar of your bathrobe to drag you down to press his lips against yours, tempting to pull you further into his embrace.

“You sure you wouldn’t wanna join me?” He whispers against your lips, a teasing tone as he lets the innuendo in his words register. He’s rewarded with an eye roll and the playful slap of your hand against his shoulder as you pull away, accompanied by the cutest flushed expression as you turn from his eyesight. It’s endearing, how you try to hide your sweet faces from him, deny him the pleasure of seeing you bashful and flustered.

“I just got out of the shower, dumbass,” you mutter, heading back around the couch to intertwine your fingers with his, intentionally tugging him upwards and onto his feet. “I’ll get a fire started and some movies going though, if that’ll make you feel better.”

“I guess,” Atsumu says, but there’s a chipper tint to it, his charismatic disposition turning devilish as the corners of his lips tilt upwards with an innocent grin. “Only if I get one more kiss before I go.”

“Idiot—” but you relent anyway, leaning up to press a longing kiss against his mouth, and he cradles you in his warm chest. He doesn’t want to pull away for anything, loving how perfectly you fit in his arms; and when you press your dainty little hands against his body, curling to clutch onto the fabric of his shirt, he doesn’t want to leave you alone for even a second.

Still, you don’t share the same sentiments (mainly because you need air to breathe) and break away from his loving hold, giving him a stern look that has him raising his hands in self defense. The two of you break apart, Atsumu heading to the bathroom to take a steaming hot shower, and you to dress in your proper pajamas and get a fire started. The house is frosty, and even after your shower, you can’t shake the frigid feeling in your bones as your hands tremble to set the logs on fire with a lit newspaper. The flame sizzles and burns, and in a few minutes, you have a roaring warmth bursting out of the hearth.

You flip through the channels on the television, looking for anything that’s not a corny Christmas movie about a small town girl and a rich businessman, but you’re foolish to try to find anything romantic otherwise during this time of year. With a sigh, you toss the remote down onto the couch and resign to your fate. Faintly, you can hear the sound of Atsumu’s shower running in the other room, and you choose to focus on that dull white noise as opposed to whatever drivel they call dialogue that you hear from the TV.

The television goes dark, alongside every light in the house, and a harsh yell sounds from the bathroom accompanied by a wet crash. You’re swarmed with darkness, the light of the fireplace casting harsh shadows over the wall, alongside the faint white light of the streetlights shining through the open window. With outstretched arms, you feel along the floor with your feet until you hit the wall, and attempt to flick back on the light switch, as if everything will be fixed. Nothing happens.

A power outage. Great.

“You okay?” You call, slightly concerned that Atsumu had slipped and fallen in the shower or knocked over any of your precious hair products. He yells something back, the wall muffling whatever response he has for you, and you hope it's not anything serious. He’s fine enough to respond, so he’s probably fine enough.

You run around gathering a few candles and lighting them sporadically around the house, concentrating them in the living room where you two would be hanging out. The water stops, and you hear Atsumu’s muffled voice again as you grab a spare flashlight and some of his clothes you had borrowed but never remembered to return before heading over to the bathroom door. You knock on it twice, and he calls out to you.

“Babe, where are you, I can’t see anything,” he whines, and you hear him take a few steps around. You can practically hear the pitiful grimace and pouty lip as he moves to stand by the door. “It’s so dark in here. The water turned cold while I was showering, so now I’m freezing.”

“I’m at the door 'Tsumu, I’ve got some spare clothes for you,” you say. The door unlocks and swings open, and you’re thankful for the staunch darkness shrouding the room. You can just barely make out his vague silhouette, but you still avert your eyes as you shove the pile of clothes into his naked chest. “Just take this flashlight and finish up. We’ve lost power, and I’m not sure how to get it started back up.”

You turn heel before he can respond, heading back to the couch to wait for him there. It doesn’t take long for him to reappear, dressed in a dark t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, his dyed blond hair dark and damp. The light of the candles cast a warm glow over his body, illuminating the defined muscles of his arms and legs as he cuddles up beside you on the sofa.

“I didn’t think the snow was that intense,” he says, looking towards the window at the rapidly falling snowflakes fluttering in the air and the hail slamming against the window “though the candlelight does create great ambiance.” He yawns, stretching his arm above his head and drifting it behind you, like a corny flirtatious gesture at a movie theater. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, tossing your legs over his thighs as you grumble quietly to yourself.

“So much for watching movies,” you sigh into his neck. He tugs you closer, clinging to you tightly as you think over your options. The snow was still falling heavily outside, the windows fogged and covered ice. You’re not even sure why the power’s out, whether it’s an outside problem or if you could just run outside and reset it yourself (not that you would want to leave the house in this weather). You snap your fingers, jostling Atsumu from his comfortable resting position. “I could get my laptop and we could stream something!”

“There’s nothing else you wanna do?” He says, luring you back into his arms with a kiss against your jaw, then your neck, finally landing on your collarbones, where his lips whisper against your skin, “it’s so cold, don’t you wanna huddle for warmth with me?”

“Don’t say it like that, I don’t like the implication,” you huff, playfully shoving him away from you as you hide your raging blush from him in the dim night. Readjusting your collar, you rush off to the stairs to grab your prize. “I’ll grab some blankets too and we can cuddle like that, okay?”

You grab a few blankets and your laptop and head back down, setting up the screen to play the first movie you find on netflix—some cheesy romantic Christmas movie, coincidentally—and start off towards the kitchen. Maybe you could grab some drinks or snacks before you settle down for the night—but Atsumu catches your elbow before you could walk very far.

“C’mon, can we cuddle now?” He pleads, and you can barely tear your gaze away from his pretty brown puppy-dog eyes, begging you to come stay. You sigh, pressing a small kiss to the side of his lips, promising you’ll be back after grabbing just _one more thing_ , that you'll be _super quick,_ and that it’ll be _worth his while,_ and he lets you go easily. And you live up to your words, grabbing a few snacks and a bottle out of the dead fridge for the two of you to share before setting it down in front of Atsumu on the coffee table. He sighs in relief as you open your ams, allowing him to finally monopolize your attention.

“C’mere doll,” he says, a large hand slipping around your tiny wrist to pull you into his arms. You fall into his grasp, relenting to his clingy touch as his hands wander over your hips and thighs to grab and squeeze in his appreciative grasp. You toss one of the blankets over yourself as you climb up enough to rest against his chest. Once you’ve stopped squirming, he pats your waist. “You warm enough?”

“Warm enough,” you hum, breathing in the smell of your fresh shampoo and bodywash combined with his natural scent, and you nuzzle your head into his chest with a pleasant smile. He’s so firm and soft at the same time, a perfect pillow as your eyelids flutter closed, the sound of the video playing on the laptop drowned out by the steady heartbeat of your boyfriend.

Atsumu looks down at you, resting his chin in his hand as he pets the top of your head. You look so cute all cuddled against him, mouth parted and eyes closed as you drift slowly off to sleep. He’s careful not to disturb you as he pulls you tight into his embrace, pressing a kiss to your hair as he lets himself relax around you.

“I love you, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so close to the end!! Christmas is in three days now, but happy holidays altogether!!! I've finally finished writing the remaining chapters so we're good to go~


	10. Ushijima Wakatoshi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Ushijima Wakatoshi having a late-night phone call.

[December 23rd]

He should have been home by now.

In fact, Ushijima should have been home nearly an hour ago, if not for the text he had sent you saying he would be a little late. Unfortunately for you, he never mentioned just _how_ late it would be before he returned, and you didn’t want to head to bed without seeing him first.

With a sigh, you sink your chin into the palm of your hand, half-lidded eyes idly watching the steady snowfall outside the window, already adding onto the fluffy white blanket covering the streets. It’s dark, only the lamp shining beside you giving you any light in the otherwise empty house. Cold and vacant.

A soft buzzing draws you out of your stupor, the name lighting up the screen of your phone ridding you of any lethargy as you quickly answer his call.

“Wakatoshi?” You mutter with a frown, voice quiet as you listen closely to the other end. There’s a small amount of noise in the background, and you could almost make out his strong, silent breathing over the line. “It’s almost midnight, I thought you would be here by now.”

“I know, my flight has been delayed. I’m not sure when I will be back.” His voice is deep and soothing, and your eyelids flutter closed at the sound of it. God, you could listen to him talk for hours on end (if he were the talkative type, that is), and hearing him simply speak to you after waiting restlessly for hours felt cathartic.

“Don’t know when you’ll be back today or don’t know when you’ll be back this week…?” You didn’t like his wording, and you bite your lip as you fiddle with the edge of his sweatshirt you borrowed. He had given it to you prior to his departure after a round of profuse begging, and it’s been the only physical comfort you’ve had in what’s felt like a lifetime.

This past weekend, Ushijima had a volleyball match outside of town, the last one before the end of the new year. As much as you wanted to go with him to cheer him on, you had a semester final on the day he would be leaving, resulting in your separation for nearly a week now. If only you could’ve gone with him, then you wouldn’t have to risk spending the holidays alone, without the love of your life.

He hums, grumbling something to himself before responding to your questions, “The flight attendants have not given me an answer yet. It will may be a day or two before we can find another flight. All of their current planes are booked.”

“I guess the holiday season has everyone rushing home,” you say with a dejected huff. That explains his absence. With planes already overbooked with families trying to visit relatives for Christmas and New Years, or businessmen wrapping up their last few out-of-town meetings before the holidays, there was always a risk of getting left in the crowd of other desperate people. Still, you sigh and let your head fall to rest on the windowsill, muttering, “I really wish you were here right now.”

“I know. I wish I was there with you now too,” he says, and it makes your tummy twist at the longing in his voice, reflecting your own emotions. “They’ve offered us a hotel for a day or two, if the delay is longer than a day.”

“God, I hope not. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, and I’d hate for you to be stuck in some stupid hotel without me,” you say. “I just… really wanted to spend the holidays with you.”

His breath hitches, the soft exhale the only indication of any of his feelings through his steady tone. At times, it was hard to understand how he felt when you couldn’t see him in person, identify the small twitches and changes in body language that denoted his mood; but, after being with him for so long, you could make out his little quirks with relative ease. “I did too. I’ll be home soon enough, I promise, and then I can make it up to you.”

That catches your attention, a little grin worming its way onto your face. You hide it with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, as if he could see your conniving countenance. “Hmm? Make it up to me how?”

“If I remember correctly, you were a fan of Tendou’s hot cocoa recipe I made for you last winter,” he chuckles lightly to himself, a heavenly sound you would die to hear in person, to see the smile that graces his lips just for you. You also weren’t going to deny an offer for him to treat you, mouth-watering at the thought of his rich, creamy drink; Ushijima was nowhere near as talented with sweets as his friend, but it was hard to fuck up a drink with only four ingredients. “I hope that will warm your spirits.”

“Sounds yummy,” you mumble, lightheaded; it wasn’t what you wanted right now. “I accept your generous offer, but I’d also really like for you to be here to warm me up.”

“Are you cold?”

“Freezing,” you respond. The weather had picked up considerably, snow falling progressively heavier outside to where you couldn’t see a few feet past the window outside. You wipe your long sleeve over the foggy glass, squinting to see into the leaden night. It certainly didn’t help that nearly everything in the house was turned off; no heat and no light. “It’s a blizzard outside.”

“Turn on the heater and make some tea. You need to take care of yourself while I am gone.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at his concern for your wellbeing, and you pout despite his lack of perception regarding your pleading expression. You snuggle a little further into his sweatshirt, large and suffocating and resembling his loving embrace, and his faint scent gives you a sense of comfort as you hum and whine.

“I would, but I’m too tired right now,” you yawn, just for the added affect, and huff as you close your eyes. The couch would be a lot more comfortable, or better yet the bed, but you couldn’t find the energy to drag yourself away from this position. “Just wanna be wrapped but in your big strong arms, fall asleep against your chest. God, I miss you so much, ‘Toshi.”

“I miss you too,” he mumbles. There’s a certain softness to it, reserved for you and you only as he gently orders you around. “Go tuck yourself into bed, it’s late.”

“I don’t wanna go to sleep without you—”

“I’ll stay on the line until you do, okay?”

A small smile drags at the corner of your lips. Even if he had a somewhat stoic and thick-skulled exterior, you knew he needed you just as much as you needed him; he cared deeply about your well-being and happiness, and you only hoped he would be okay by himself at the airport until you could have your arms wrapped around his waist and your soothing fingers brushing through his olive locks.

“Okay,” you answer. Standing from your spot against the window and rolling your stiff shoulders, you do as you're told and head to bed. It’s empty and cold without him in it, the covers not comparing to the heat and comfort of his arms would bring you as he tugs you close to his chest, allowing his heartbeat to lull you into a state of serenity. You nibble on your lip, legs kicking with restlessness as you call out to him. “Mm, ‘Toshi?”

“Yes?”

“I love you,” you whisper as you snuggle into your pillow, imagining that it was his broad chest as you listen to his voice over the phone tucked underneath it. Maybe when you wake up, your dreams of reuniting with him will come true as your eyes widen to his affectionate smile and welcoming arms. But for now, you depend on his long-distance call to get you through the night.

“I love you too. Now get some rest.”

And you do; a few minutes later, your breathing becomes slow and stable, a light snore echoing through the phone as you drift off to sleep. Ushijima holds his phone close to his ear as he listens to your small inhales and exhales before hanging up himself. He misses you so much, he does, and he would do anything to be with you in that moment; it just so happens he’s stuck in an airport nearly a two-hour plane ride away from you.

He drags a hand down his face, exhaustion seeping into his bones as he reclines on one of the benches. The glaring white lights of the airport made it difficult to get any rest, and he doubts he would be able to sleep if he tried. Having been waiting in the same lobby for hours, receiving different calls from his manager updating him on the status of his flight, and all ending with not being able to come home to you tonight? It puts him in a dour mood.

It’s why he grits his teeth when he sees a new text from his manager, not looking forward to whatever insignificant news she had to deliver to him. He had no interest in staying in a hotel until a flight opened up; he would rather rent a car to drive the extra distance tonight to get home, rather than sleep in some cold bed. He’s gotten spoiled with having your small, plush body warm his bed, being able to feel your smooth skin against his body as he hugs you close to his heart. It makes his chest tighten at the thought.

Checking his text, he pauses, eyes dragging over the excited words of his manager to reread the good news she was delivering to him. Turns out, she had managed to get him and his team on another flight out of town, within the next hour; meaning he would be with you before morning.

A small grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he pockets his phone and heads to the designated waiting area to meet the rest of the team, his hand gripping the handle of his suitcase a little too tightly as excitement rumbles through his body. Soon, he’ll be toppling into his own bed beside you, drifting off to the tangible thought of spending the holidays with you.

Four hours later, the sun dances just below the horizon as the sky shifts from ebony to indigo, but he’s home. The house is quiet, every room dark and cold as he swings open the front door. He doesn’t bother unpacking or undressing, opting to leave his suitcase by the welcome mat and tossing off his thick overcoat as he makes a straight line for your shared bedroom. Sure enough, there you are, bundled underneath a hefty layer of blankets. He can only make out your vague shape from beneath the covers, and coming closer he can just barely see the top of your head and hair peeking out.

He towers over the bed, hand hovering over you momentarily before slipping the duvet down just enough for him to be able to see your conked-out expression; eyes closed, mouth open as you lightly snore, nose twitching at the fresh wave of cold air hitting your face. You couldn’t be more perfect, and he can’t help but bask in your presence for just a little while longer, dragging his hand gently across your hair as you shift and groan.

“Wakatoshi…?” You mumble, disoriented and dazed, still half-asleep. He can’t help but smile as you blink up at him, cute little lips parted as you try to differentiate between your dreams and reality. Your hands come up to grab his shoulders as he presses his knees onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight.

“Good morning, my love,” he says, deep voice rumbling in his chest as he leans to press a kiss against your soft hair, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck to deeply breathe in your natural scent. He’s missed you so much; he only hopes you can feel just how much he’s yearned for you in the past week, hell, the past few _hours_ as he wraps his arms around you in a crushing embrace.

“I thought your flight was cancelled,” your voice is muffled, and you shake your head slightly to clear your thoughts as you shuffle closer to his warm body. Your hands clutch his shirt, nervously squeezing and twisting the fabric between your grasp. “You’re home early.”

“We changed flights,” he grumbles. He’s so tired he could fall asleep on top of you. Finally having you in his arms fills him with a peace he couldn’t find on the flight back home, and he clings a little tighter to your frame as he feels the weight of his slight sleep-deprivation dawn upon him. You were his home, in every sense of the word; he would trade anything in the world just to fall asleep with you in his arms every night, to feel an ounce of your overwhelming love everyday. “Are you not happy to see me?”

“No, god no, I’m ecstatic,” you say quickly, eyes going wide as you look up into his olive gaze. There’s a sense of panic in your voice as you desperately attempt to tug him closer, digging your face between his toned chest. “Please, please don’t ever leave me for so long again, I can’t stand sleeping alone anymore.” You tilt your head up at him, eyes pleading, and maybe it's just a trick of the dim light, but he swears he can practically see the heart-shaped highlights reflecting off of your dark pupils. “The bed’s too cold without you in it, y’know.”

Your words are innocent, large doe-eyes adjusted onto him as if he’s your entire world, and he runs a large hand against your cheek. You lean into his touch, and he gives you a long, gentle kiss against your lips, attempting to force as much of his love and affection in the gesture as he can; he grabs your hand in his, so tiny and small in his grasp, and he places it against his own chest. Strangely enough, having you close to him like this melts away his fatigue, especially when you’ve waited for him all night and have greeted him so nicely. He brushes his nose against your lips, breaking away long enough for him to meet your gaze once more.

“Then allow me to warm you up.”


	11. Oikawa Tooru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Oikawa Tooru getting lost in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve! I hope you're all having a wonderful holiday season so far~

[December 24th]

“Are you sure you’re going the right way?”

Oikawa taps at his phone a few times, squinting at the screen before drifting his eyes to the blank spanse of road out in front of you. You’ve been on this same road for nearly twenty minutes, and you haven’t seen jackshit in terms of directional signs or civilization. Just the same bland stretch of asphalt and dirt for miles on end.

“I don’t know, am I?” You snap, already on edge from having to drive somewhere you’ve never been to late at night. It doesn’t help that your boyfriend gets whiny at the worst of times, so the combination of his little comments and complaints since turning on this godforsaken road has got you in an irritable mood. “You’re the one navigating, dipshit.”

“No need to be so hostile, I’m trying to be helpful,” he soothes, reaching over to pull at your cheek. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the steering wheel, already at your wits end with his teasing, and you’ve only been in the car with him for half an hour. He retracts his hand, and you sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter shut a moment as you recollect yourself. You can’t get mad at him right now, it’s not his fault for the terrible circumstances you two found yourselves in; taking out your frustrations verbally on the brunet would only end in an awkward, snappy silent treatment for the rest of the ride. He blows a loose strand of hair out of his face, huffing at your crabbiness. “I don’t know where that detour took us, so I can’t get us back on track.”

“Is it not rerouting?” You ask.

“If it was rerouting, we would be on route right now.”

“Tooru,” now it was your turn to whine, bottom lip jutting out in a pathetic pout. You hear Oikawa snicker quietly beside you, somehow finding amusement in your pitiful state. He reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. “This isn’t funny, it’s already dark and we have no idea where we are.”

“Well sorry sweetheart, I’m not in charge of the cell towers, now am I?” He raises his phone screen to mock you, shaking it as you get a good side-eye of the empty cellular bars and stationary car on the digital map. With a sigh, he swipes through his phone again, eyebrows scrunched together as he glares at the device. “There’s no service out here, where the hell are we?”

There’s nothing but a vast black road in front of you, and your brightest lights can’t even see the end of the long stretch. It doesn’t help that you haven’t passed a single car on the way to the team manager’s house in the middle of nowhere, the shared anxiety only heightened since the Aoba Johsai Boy’s & Girl’s volleyball team annual Christmas Eve party was supposed to be starting soon. It was a bad look for the captain to be late, and an even worse reflection on you, his partner, who happened to be driving him there as his plus-one guest.

“Look maybe we should pull over and just try to get things oriented. Maybe find a gas station nearby, since the car’s low,” you offer, biting your lip as you glance at the little gauge for the fuel tank. It was dangerously close to empty, hovering on top of the lowest bar and threatening to drop at any moment as the orange gas light blinks adamantly at you. Curse you for not getting gas before you left; you could’ve sworn her house would be closer to the school than it actually is… 

“Yeah, maybe there’ll be a gas station somewhere on this abandoned stretch of road—” he stretches out his hand, displaying the street in front of you with performant flair as he moves his hand from your thigh to rest on the side of your chair, “—in the middle of nowhere!”

You want to snap back at him, chastise him for acting like a brat when he was the one who got you two lost in the first place, but a retort does on your tongue as you feel the car jolt and stutter, slowing down despite your insistent stomping of the pedal.

“Oh my god, no—” you whine, swerving over to the side of the road just as the car gives out, dead. You slam your head down on the steering wheel, earning a short honk from the impact. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Don’t tell me we’re out of gas,” Oikawa pipes up, staring at the stilled view in front of him as if he can’t believe his eyes.

“We’re out of gas,” you groan immediately, looking over at your boyfriend to grab at his nice vest he wore just for the occasion. He grabs your wrist, instinctively rubbing small circles into the skin despite his clearly huffy demeanor. “I knew I should’ve refilled before we left town.”

He sighs. “This is just great,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his soft brown hair, ruffling the style he fancifully combed just before departing. You told him it would get messed up one way or another (a subtle hint that made him blush and grin as you stood behind him in the mirror), and you guess you were right; you two weren’t even at the party yet, and he was stressing himself and his combover into frazzlement. “I still don’t have cell service. We’re stranded.”

“We’re not stranded, we’re just…” you hum tapping your chin, looking for the right words. Your phone had died before even leaving, depending solely on the setter to get you there and take care of you in case of emergencies. It was a foolish oversight on your part; forgot to get gas, forgot to charge your phone. “... a little stuck?”

“Are you kidding? We’re stuck on the side of the road, not a gas station in sight, and my phone has no service!” He tosses his head back, closing his eyes as he huffs. “I’m gonna be late for the party.”

You doubt he’s worried about being late as much as he is about being lost and forgotten on some random backroads, but you don’t want to worsen his mood; especially since you were also freaking out on the inside, and you didn’t need two cranky teens arguing in the car.

“Hey, hey, relax alright,” you coo, not enjoying his whiny complaints, but not wanting him to be upset or stressed in any way either. You splay your hand flat against his chest, trying to feel his rapid heartbeat through his layers as your other hand slinks your fingers through his. “We’ll just wait to see if anyone drives by and borrow their phone, or see if they can give us a ride.”

He stares at you blankly. “I’m not hopping in a stranger's car, sweetheart.”

“Well, would you rather walk to the nearest gas station to grab a can? No? Then we wait,” you say, enjoying the way his face morphs from one of condescension to a ghastly taken aback look, mouth agape as you pull your hands away from his body entirely and step out of the car. He calls after you, opening his own door and running over to your side.

“Fine, fine, but only because I know you’d hitch a ride without me if I refused to go, and I’m not having you locked in a truck with some middle aged pervert.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, dragging your back firm against his chest as he rests his chin against you. You feel his warm breath hit your neck as he avoids your backwards glance, and you grin to yourself giddily.

“Aww, you’d rather be stuck in a truck with some middle-aged pervert with me?” He grunts in response, and you can feel the heat of his glare against your temple as you hug his arms, leaning back into his embrace with a wistful sigh. “How romantic, Tooru.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

He tugs at your cheek again, eliciting a cute squeak that makes him smile. The warmth against your back disappears as he pulls away from you, your body instinctively following him as he opens the door to the backseat and climbs in. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna lay down in the back, the streetlights are hurting my eyes and it’s cramped up front.” He says with a shrug as you walk over to stand in front of the open door. He settles himself comfortably, resting his back against the opposite door with his legs stretched out, not saving you any room to sit with him. “Hey, come back here with me, cutie~”

He leans forward to tugs you inside, forcing you on your hands and knees on top of him as he encourages you to crawl into his arms once more. You crumple onto his lap, face pressed into his broad chest as his fingers dig into the hair at the nape of your neck. Your foot aimlessly attempts to shut the door behind you, uselessly hooking onto the door handle to partially close it enough that the harsh cold doesn’t seep in too bad.

“It’s your fault for getting us into this mess with your shitty directions,” you mumble, muffled. His chest is so warm and safe, and despite the annoyance earlier, you feel yourself melting at his gentle touch and soft rise and fall with his breathing.

“And it’s your fault for not gassing up the car before we left; we can point fingers all night long,” he jabs, smothering you in his grasp as he pulls you impossibly close. You’re glad he’s got you pinned in a suffocating embrace, it helps to eliminate his childish teasing of your flustered expression as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. It’s pleasant, the two of you reclining in silence. The only sounds echoing through the small space are your shared breaths and the whipping of the wind outside, undisturbed by any passing cars (both a downside and an upside) or incessant couple bickering. You almost don’t mind getting hopelessly lost and stranded in the middle of nowhere, since it’s with Oikawa and no one else.

A soft vibrating against your tummy stirs you from your bliss, forcing you to sit up on his lap. Your eyes go wide as you find the culprit.

“Tooru, your phone!”

He perks up, scrambling to grab the device from his pocket and press it to his ear, a look of absolute joy crossing his features as he finds his saviour. “Iwa-chan?” He sighs, nearly crying, before pressing a kiss to the bottom of the screen. “Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice! Listen—I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere and I need you to come pick us up—yes, I’m with them right now, they’re the one who got us lost and stuck—”

“I am not!”

He slaps a hand over your mouth, intent on listening to the voice of his vice captain. Iwaizumi is muffled, and you can’t really make out anything he’s saying, but you can certainly hear the displeased tone as he addresses the setter. “Shush now; can you come get us? Pretty please?” A heartbeat goes by as he listens to the man’s resigned response before he nearly shouts with glee, grabbing your shoulder and shaking it roughly as he responds, “ah, I’ll text you our location right now, you’re a godsend!”

With that, he hangs up, leaving you looking up at him with wide, questioning eyes. “How far out is he?”

“He said he should be here in thirty minutes or so,” Oikawa says, clapping his hands together with a closed-eyed smile; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this relieved, like he’s achieved a state of pure nirvana. That is, until a grunt leaves his lips as he attempts to stretch out against the tiny interior. He pats your leg. “Switch positions with me, my back is hurting.”

Somehow the two of you maneuver your bodies around one another so that you’re sitting up against the door with Oikawa’s back pressed against your front, your hands now marvelling at the plush softness of his hair as you give it a thorough pet. He hums once he’s settled between your legs, your thighs pressing under his arms on either side as he leans his head back.

“He didn’t sound too happy on the other line, everything okay?” You ask, making mild conversation to let the half-hour pass by faster. You know Iwaizumi wouldn’t leave you both high and dry in the middle of nowhere; he was a good guy, and he would always take care of the two of you when you needed it. That much you know, seeing as how often you’ve spent time with him simply through dating his best friend.

“The party was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago, Iwa’s probably just stressed that I’m not there yet.” His eyes flutter shut at a particularly pleasant drag of your fingernails against his scalp, and he leans into your touch. “And he says that he’s gonna kick my ass for being late and getting lost.”

“Hmm, can’t wait to see that.”

“Don’t be mean, you’re just as guilty as I am!” He says, reaching his hand behind his head to blindly pull at your cheek, earning a beautiful laugh from your lips.

“Oh, so you want Iwaizumi to kick my ass too?” You can’t help but tease, leaning your cheeks against his hair and wrapping your arms around his neck. He huffs underneath you, and even though you can’t see his expression, you can hear the pout in his tone.

“Maybe you deserve it—”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say to your partner, dumbass!”


	12. Kageyama Tobio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Kageyama Tobio sharing Christmas morning with his significant other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to pick a favorite out of the drabbles I've written in the past twelve days, but this is definitely at the top of the list. I just love Kageyama so much~

[December 25th]

Hot.

Suffocating warmth cocoons you, darkness swarming your vision as you attempt to roll your body over. It was unusually cold last night, so the added warmth this morning from the extra covers must have kicked up a sweat; too hot, too hot, too hot—

A grunt stops the frenzied punting of your legs, trying to throw the blankets off of your warm body, and you freeze immediately as your eyes shoot open. Soft sunlight pours through the blinds, illuminating the room in a dark glow. A weight on your chest shuffles forward, drawing your attention to the sleeping setter pinning you to the bed. His eyes are shut, cheeks pressed against your breasts, a scowl painting his pretty features as you wiggle again. It didn’t matter if he was content and cute, he was heavy and far too warm for you to be comfortable.

“Stop squirming, would you?” He grumbles, cracking open one eye to glare up at you. A sharp breath gets caught in your throat, and you swallow whatever snarky retort you had for him. Better to not get on Kageyama’s bad side so early in the morning, not when it’s such a festive day; you wanted your time with him today to be special.

That doesn’t stop you from wedging yourself between his shoulders to better free your limbs from his stifling mass. “You’re too heavy, I’m being crushed,” you whine, and he only grunts at your petty complaints. “It’s too warm in here.”

Kageyama kicks his legs, the blankets hanging off falling to the floor and leaving the two of you on the bare bed. That… helps. With your bare arms and legs now exposed to the cool air of the room, you can freely wrap your body around your boyfriend without feeling like you're on fire. Still, you do push on his shoulders to break free of his grasp, settling down on your side next to him.

He’s watching you through thick eyelashes, sleep still heavy on his mind as you get comfortable in his arms again before he pulls you tight into his chest. It’s one of the few mornings he allows himself to sleep in, to not ritually force his stiff body out of bed for volleyball practice, and you’re already squirming around like a salted eel.

“That’s too bad, I’m tired,” he mutters, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and tangling his legs with yours, not ready to get out of bed just yet. The sun was barely up, but the increasing rays of light shining into the room still forced his body to stir and wake. He sighs, meeting your wide gaze as you look up at him with pouty lips and puppy-dog stare. “What?”

“Do you know what today is, Tobio?” You hum, tracing your fingers along his jaw and tilting his chin to bring his lips closer to yours. His eyebrows scrunch together, lips drawn in a thin line as he thinks about your question.

“Christmas morning, isn’t it?” He asks. How could he forget—that’s the whole reason the two of you were sharing a bed at his sister’s apartment for the holiday; he’s not really one for celebrating, and there’s nothing he really wants from Santa Claus this year. Not that he really even believes in the big guy in the first place—sure, Tsukishima offhandedly mentioned something about a St. Nicholas sighting a few days ago that had Hinata and him scrambling—but there always just so happens to be an unexplainable gift or two under the Christmas tree with his name on it.

“Aren’t you excited?” You whisper, letting your hands trail up his chest and rub small circles along his cheeks with your thumb. There’s something magical and serene, sitting in near silence on a quiet Christmas morning with your partner; no rush to get out of bed, languid movements and lazy touches as you huddle close for warmth. “We’ll have a nice homemade breakfast, go ice skating downtown—I know this cute little cafe we could grab lunch or dinner at later too…”

You trail off, humming to yourself in pleasant thought before you lean up to press a chaste kiss to his chin. He flushes a deep red, recoiling slightly as his eyes dart away from yours. It’s cute how he still embarrassed gets at the flirty touches and physical displays of affection, even after the two of you spent the better half of last night starfished over one another.

“And since you’ve been on the nice-list all year, I have a little surprise for you when we get up~” you tease him, dipping your head to press against his chest and purr softly against his flustered form, throwing your leg over his hip to pull him closer. Your cheeky smile is hidden in his sleep shirt, one you dig your nails into and hum against. That seems to entice him, strong hands tearing you away from his body by your shoulders to meet your half-lidded eyes with his.  
“What is it?” He asks, hovering over you with a serious yet childlike wonder in his eyes. His hands are gripping your shoulders hard, and he gives it a little shake to encourage an answer out of you. Those pretty eyes of his narrow as you giggle, tossing your head back against his pillow with that same shit-eating grin. “C’mon stop playing around, it’s too early for this.”

“Hmm-mm,” you hum, trailing your fingers up his arms to his neck, draping your arms over his shoulders. It was almost eight o’ clock in the morning, a far stretch from too early to still be lazing around in bed, but you know your beguiling words and featherlight touches are what he's referring to. “Breakfast first, surprise later?” You pat his cheek, and he scowls down at you. “Besides, I thought you were too tired, since it’s just so early~”

Kageyama sits back on his heels, dragging you up along with him until you’re situated in his lap. He’s pouting, clearly unamused with your games, and he lets his forehead fall forward to rest against yours. “Stop teasing me, idiot, I am tired.” His dark eyes meet yours, practically glinting in anticipation as he continues, “but I’m not too tired for breakfast.”

“You’re the idiot—” you grin, pressing forward to rest a simple kiss on his lips. He mutters something unintelligible, and you shut him up with another peck. His face is flushed pink when you pull away once more, and he grips onto the bare flesh of your thigh a little tighter.

A loud knock on the door, muffled yelling following, whips the two of you back to reality. Kageyama bristles as he hears Miwa yell, “Get out of bed lovebirds, I’m not making breakfast by myself!”

He grimaces, listening to her footsteps pad away after you yell an affirmative, and he tugs you closer to his chest in a protective manner. It helps to hide his raging blush at his sister’s blunt attitude—what other kind of a reaction did he expect when he brought his partner to stay overnight with him?—and pats your leg to hop up. Might as well head on downstairs, no use in delaying the inevitable. You squeeze his hand with a comforting smile.

Miwa is already bouncing around the kitchen, pots and pans banging loudly as she tosses them onto the counter. You break away from Kageyama’s side to help her out, his fingers twitching at the loss of your touch, and he trails behind you. She starts barking out orders, pointing with a sharpened chefs knife to various cupboards and ingredients the two of you needed to grab.

He’s mostly silent as you help Miwa chop veggies, settling for idly pushing around a fried egg in a greased pan as he listens in on your casual conversation with his sister.

“So, sleep well you two?” She asks, humming lightly to herself. She slides the cut pepper off the cutting board into a bowl you have held for her, and she sneaks a glance between the two of you. “Or should I ask: get any sleep at all last night?”

You nearly drop the silver mixing bowl, earning a choked gasp from you and a pair of tinged red ears from Tobio, who’s lucky enough to have his back turned. Though, the slight embarrassment is worth it to hear your panicked stutter that _it's nothing like that_ and this is _supposed to be just a family-friendly Christmas stay, Miwa._ The subject quickly changes as the smell of burnt egg drifts through the air, and you’re practically ripping the frying pan out his hands and off the stovetop before he could set the whole kitchen on fire.

He’s only allowed on mixing and chopping duty from now on.

The three of you manage to get breakfast on the table without any major property damage. Turns out, Miwa’s a great conversationalist. The sharp sting of discomfiture melts away into a distant memory, and her easy going nature makes it hard to find fault with her sisterly teasing and abashing remarks. Occasionally, she’ll throw in a good-natured jab at her younger brother, one that makes him hold his chopsticks in a crushing grip, teeth bared and face red as he defends himself from whatever insouciant comment she makes. Worst of all, _you_ seem to get a kick out of his heated expressions and defensive outbursts just as much as Miwa, making a dangerous combination.

Eventually, you all clean up and Miwa apologizes as she heads out the door, saying she’ll be right back once she picks up a friend of hers, and the front door shuts with a click. Immediately, groping hands wander around your waist, pulling your back flush against Kageyama’s chest and allowing him to rest his chin on your shoulder. His breath is hot against your ear as he grips you firmly, not allowing you to escape his grasp as he asks, “so what about that surprise?”

You tap your chin, clicking your tongue in mock thought just to piss off his impatient ass a tiny bit longer. But when his fingers dig a little too hard into your sides, playful yet bruising, you can’t help the ticklish squeal that erupts from your mouth.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get your surprise!” You concede, escaping his treacherous clutches to pad over to the half-size christmas tree in the corner of the apartment. It’s not really a huge surprise or anything super special, but you do hope he enjoys the neatly wrapped gift box you hand him. His eyes light up, glistening with childlike glee as he fails to keep a straight face. Your fingers brush against each other as he takes the box with mirrored delicacy, one that’s ruined when he viciously shakes the box and forth next to his ear.

“Cut that out!” You smack the side of his head with no real strength, and any faux-malice you tried to force at his childish behaviour melts away as he tears through the wrapping paper, a hidden smirk on his face. He slides off the lid, pausing in a hitch-breathed awe before pulling out a brand new pair of sleek black sneakers.

“Surprise!” Cue jazz-hands, a sheepish smile on your face. “I know you’ve been needing new shoes for a while now—you’ve practically wore your last pair down to its ragged threads—and you mentioned liking a pair like these…”

“I love them,” he says, not giving you any time to finish. He’s awestruck as he flips the shoes around in his hands before turning his attention back to you, the slightest hints of a genuine smile on the corner of his lips. “Thank you.”

“Listen, I know it’s not jumping power or some other nonphysical present that would have benefited your volleyball skills, but I hope it’s the next best thing?” He acknowledges your statement with a hum, already sliding on his shoes to test them out for himself. It’s a perfect fit, thankfully. You slide your hands around his waist and lean down to press a kiss to his cheek. Thank god he likes it; quality new shoes weren’t exactly the cheapest thing in the world, but weeks of saving up have been well worth it just to see Kageyama happy and excited. One hand rests on your back, patting it twice before he’s standing and moving away from you, grabbing something else from underneath the tree.

“What’s this?” You ask, taking the poorly wrapped gift from him. It’s pliable, a makeshift bow messily taped to the top, but you’re grateful that he even took the time to get you something. You rip into the paper, instantly met with the soft grey fabric of one of his old volleyball sweatshirts; complete with the embroidered Karasuno label and the kanji for ‘Kageyama Tobio’ on the breast, and a hole on the side where the seam tore from a fight with Hinata. Your touch is delicate as you trace over the memories, slightly astonished that he would even think to give you something like this. “Your old sweatshirt?”

Suddenly, Kageyama’s at a loss for words, eyes avoiding yours as he leans against the couch arm. He can’t really gauge your reaction, so he’s not sure what to say when he responds, “You’re always stealing my clothes everytime we hang out, so I figured if I just gave you something of mine you would be satisfied.” He rubs the back of his neck, face dusted pink at the realization of just how intimate this kind of gift was; you don’t miss it at all.

“Tobio,” you sing, nudging in between his knees to stand in front of him, biting your lip in a poor attempt to hide the complacent grin spread across your face. It was probably the most heartwarming thing he could’ve gotten you, a thoughtful gift that, sadly, wouldn't have the desired effect. “It’s cute how you think this is gonna stop me from stealing even _more_ or your clothes.”

He raises his head to protest, only to quickly avert his gaze to see your bare stomach and hips as you slip off your top. You slide on your new present, marveling at how it's perfectly oversized on your frame, surprisingly soft and warm, and oh god, it _still smells like him—_

You don’t want to dwell on the possibility of him giving you an unwashed volleyball sweatshirt, instead focusing on leaning into his raised hands. He meets your gaze again, drifting down to his clothes now draping your form, admiring the way the sleeves dangle past the wrist and how the hem just barely covers the top of your thighs—and now he’s almost regretting gifting that to you at all because _damn_ are you gorgeous when you’re covered in him. So pretty.

He blinks blankly, still processing your words through his distraction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not gonna smell like you anymore if I take it home and wear it all the time,” you whine, enjoying the way your words fluster and ruffle his little crow feathers. His hands dig into your waist, body stilled as you continue with your own faint touches, “Maybe then you’ll have to steal it every now and then, just to freshen it up for me, hmm?”

Kageyama scoffs as you trace a finger along his jaw, tilting his chin up to meet your wicked gaze, “You’re such a creep sometimes, you know that?” But, in a perverted way, he enjoys it too; and he maybe he’ll wear his old sweatshirt around when you two visit one another, debate spritzing it with body spray just for you—but then again, maybe that was weird, and you wouldn’t like it all—

“I love it, thank you,” your lips find his in a sweet embrace, bodies molding around one another as you soak up each other's presence. You pull away, eyes closed in bliss, and he has to resist the urge to pull you in again. “Merry Christmas, Tobio.”

He smiles, pulling you down to press his forehead against yours.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays!! I hope you've enjoyed this daily little series up until now, because it's finally over! I have a lot of other stories in progress at the moment, so I hope you stay with me for a while!
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate everyone of you who have taken the time to read and comment on my works, it really brightens my day (´ ω `♡)


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